
Class l 

Book i 



COPYRIGHT DEKSSm 



%ake JEnolisb Classics 

Under the editorial supervision of LINDSAY TODD DAMON, 
A. B., Associate Professor of English, in Brown University. 

tADDISON— The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. . . . 30c 

Herbert Vaughan Abbott, A. M ., Columbia University. 
*BURKE— Speech on Conciliation with America, . . . 25c 
Joseph Villiers Denney, B. A., Ohio State University. 

tCARLYLE— Essay on Burns 35c 

George B. Alton, State Inspector of H. S.. Minn. 

COOPER— Last of the Mohicans, 40c, 

Edwin H. Lewis, Ph. D., Lewis Institute, Chicago. 
tCOLERIDGE-The Ancient Mariner, ) nnt > Vrtl 
tLOWELL— Vision of Sir Launfal, J-une vol., . . 25c. 

"William Vaughn Moody, A. M., University of Chicago. 
DE QUINCEY-The Flight of a Tartar Tribe, . . . 35c, 
Charles W. French, A. M., Hyde Park High School. 

DRYDEN— Palamon and Arcite, 35b 

May Estelle Cook, A. B., Chicago. 

tGEORGE ELIOT— Silas Marner, joe. 

Albert E. Hancock, Ph. D., Haverford College. 
tGOLDSMITH— The Vicar of Wakefield, . . . . 30c 

Edward P. Morton, A. M., The Indiana University. 
HAWTHORNE— The House of the Seven Gables, . . 35c. 

Robert Herrick, A. B., The University of Chicago. 
IRVING— Tales of a Traveller and parts of The Sketch Book, 40c 

George P. E.rapp, Teachers' College, New York. 
LOWELL— Vision of Sir Launfal. See Coleridge. 
"T1ACAULAY— Essays on Hilton and Addison, . . . 30c 
Alphonso G. Newcomer, A. M., Leland Stanford Junior 
University. 
MAC AUL AY— Essays on Addison and Johnson, . . . 30c. 

Alphonso G. Newcomer, A. M. 
♦MILTON— L' Allegro, II Penseroso, Comas, and Lycidas, . 25c. 

W. A. Neilson, Ph. D., Harvard University. 
MILTON— Paradise Lost, Books I and II, ... 25c 

Frank E. Farley, Ph. D., Syracuse University, 

POS— Poems and Tales, Selected, 300. 

Alphonso G. Newcomer, A. M. 
POPE-Homer's Iliad, Books I, VI, XXII, XXIV, . . 25c 
Wilfred W. Cressy, A. M., and William Vaughn 
Moody, A. M. 

SCOTT— Lay of the Last Minstrel 35c 

William Vaughn Moody, A. M., and 
Mary R. Willard, High School, Jamestown, N. Y. 
SCOTT— Lady of the Lake, . . . . . . 30c. 

William Vaughn Moody, A. M. 

SCOTT— Marmion, 30A 

William Vaughn Moody, A. M., and Mary R. Willakd, 
/SCOTT— Ivanhoe, ......... 40* 

William E. Simonds, Ph. D., Knox College. 
SHAKSPERE-As You Like It, . . . . . . 35c 

** u . w - A - Neilson, Ph. D., Harvard University. 
*SHAKSPERE-Macbeth, ........ 35ft 

John Henry Boynton, Ph. D., Syracuse University. 
*o U , w * A * Neilson, Ph. D. Harvard University. 
tSHAKSPERE— Merchant of Venice, . . . . . 35c. 

^„ d Robert Morss Lovett, The University of Chicago. 
tSHAKSPERE-Julius Caesar, . . . . . . . 35c. 

**>*,*,??• A * Neilson, Ph. D., Harvard University. 
tTENNYSON-The Princess, ....... 25c 

Charles Townsend Copeland, A. B., Harvard College. 
!H or Study and Practice. ? College Entrance Requirements la 
TFor Reading. f English, 1903. 

SCOTT, FORESMAN AND COMPANY 

Ptoushbrs, 378-388 Wabash Avenue«..XJhica€# 



Gbe Xafte Cnalisb Classics 



EDITED BY 



LINDSAY TODD DAMON, A.B. 
Instructor in English in the University of Chicago 



£be Xafte jgngiieb Classics 



yd 

SHAKSPERE'S 



63 (p I 

AS YOU LIKE IT 



EDITED FOE SCHOOL USE 
BY 

WILLIAM ALLAN NEILSON, M.A., Ph.D. 
harvard' university 



CHICAGO 
SCOTT, EORESMAN AND COMPANY 

1903 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS. 


Two Copies 


Received 


JUL 25 


903 


Copyright 

ao« ; 3- 
CLASS a. 


Entry 
XXc No. 


4 «r tf 

COPY 


B. 



7/T.; 



COPYRIGHT, 1903 
BY SCOTT, FORESMAN AND COMPANY 



BOUT. O. LAW CO., PRKTBRS AND BINDERS, OHICAGOl 



PKEFACE. 

The aim in the volumes of this series is to pre- 
sent a satisfactory text of each play, modernized 
in spelling and punctuation, with as full an 
equipment of explanation and comment as is 
necessary for thorough intelligibility. The first 
section of the introduction is intended to give the 
student an idea of the place of the play in the 
history of the English Drama in general and of 
Shakspere's development in particular. In the 
present volume a considerable amount of space 
in the second section has been devoted to the 
source of the play and to Shakspere's adaptation 
of it to his dramatic purposes. The mere state- 
ment of the name of the book from which the 
plot is drawn is of little significance unless the 
student is enabled to form some conception of 
the omissions, additions, and modifications to 
which the earlier work was subjected by the 
dramatist. An attempt has therefore been made 
to give a concise summary of those features in 
Lodge's novel of Rosalynde a comparison of 
which with the corresponding parts of As You 
Like It helps to throw light on Shakspere's 
aim and methods. The task of aesthetic inter- 
pretation has been for the most part left to the 
teacher, and the significance of the changes just 



6 PREFACE. 

mentioned has been merely hinted at ; but it may 
be suggested here that few methods of enabling 
students to realize the greatness of Shakspere's 
achievement are so effective as that of a point by 
point comparison of the crude material with the 
finished masterpiece. In the present instance a 
group of somewhat conventional and artificial 
characters are transformed into living persons 
whose individual qualities of mind and tempera- 
ment we know as we know those of our personal 
friends ; by a series of subtle touches the scene 
gains a local color and the society an atmosphere 
as distinctive as they are delightful; and to a 
merely entertaining romance is added an under- 
current of philosophy and shrewd and humorous 
comment on human life as wise and wholesome as 
it is unobtrusive. 

Complete texts of Lodge's Rosalynde may be 
found in Hazlitt's Shakspeare^s Library, volume 
II, in Dr. Furness's Variorum edition of As You 
Like It, in a recent edition in Newnes's Caxton 
Series, and in inexpensive form in Cassell's 
National Library. 

For further details on the life and works of 
Shakspere the following books may be referred 
to: Dowden's Shakspere Primer and Shak- 
spere, His Mind and Art; Sidney Lee's Life of 
William Shakespeare; Barrett Wendell's William 
Shakspere; and Shakspere and His Predecessors, 
by F. S. Boas. The most exhaustive account of 



PREFACE. V 

the English Drama is A. W. Ward's History of 
English Dramatic Literature. Both this work 
and that of Sidney Lee are rich in bibliographical 
information. For questions of language and 
grammar, see A. Schmidt's Shakespeare Lexicon; 
J. Bartlett's Concordance to Shakespeare; Little- 
dale's new edition of Dyce's Glossary to Shake- 
speare (New York, 1902) ; and E. A. Abbott's 
Shakespearian Grammar. For general questions 
of dramatic construction see Gustav Erey tag's 
Technik des Dramas, translated into English by 
E. J. MacEwan; and Dr. Elisabeth Woodbridge's 
The Drama, its Law and its Technique. 
Hakvakd Univeksity, 
March, 1903. 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Preface 5 

Introduction 

I. Sliakspere and the English Drama . . 11 

II. As You Like It , . . . . . 29 

Text . 45 

Totes 164 

Word Index .201 



INTRODUCTION. 

I. SHAKSPEKE AND THE ENGLISH DRAMA. 

The wonderful rapidity of the development of 
the English drama in the last quarter of the six- 
teenth century stands in striking contrast to the 
slowness of its growth before that period. The 
religious drama, out of which the modern dramatic 
forms were to spring, had dragged through centu- 
ries with comparatively little change, and was still 
alive when, in 1576, the first theatre was built in 
London. By 1600 Shakspere had written more 
than half his plays and stood completely master of 
the art which he brought to a pitch unsurpassed 
in any age. Much of this extraordinary later 
progress was due to contemporary causes; but 
there entered into it also certain other elements 
which can be understood only in the light of the 
attempts that had been made in the three or four 
preceding centuries. 

In England, as in Greece, the drama sprang from 
religious ceremonial. The Mass, the centre of 
The Drama ^ ne P 1ID ^ C worship of the Koman 
before church, contained dramatic mate- 

shakspei ^..^ ^ ^ e gestures of the offici- 

ating priests, in the narratives contained in the 
Lessons, and in the responsive singing and chant- 
11 



12 INTRODUCTION. 

ing„ Latin, the language in which the services 
were conducted, was unintelligible to the mass of 
the people, and as early as the fifth century the 
clergy had begun to use such devices as tableaux 
vivants of scenes like the marriage in Cana and 
the Adoration of the Magi to make comprehen- 
sible important events in Bible history. Later, 
the Easter services were illuminated by repre- 
sentations of the scene at the sepulchre on the 
morning of the Eesurrection, in which a wooden, 
and afterwards a stone, structure was used for the 
tomb itself, and the dialogue was chanted by differ- 
ent speakers representing respectively the angel, 
the disciples, and the women. From such begin- 
nings as this there gradually evolved the earliest 
forms of the Mieacle Play. 

As the presentations became more elaborate, 
the place of performance was moved first to the 
churchyard, then to the fields, and finally to the 
streets and open spaces of the towns . With this 
change of locality went a change in the language 
and in the actors, and an extension of the field from 
which the subjects were chosen. Latin gave way 
to the vernacular, and the priests to laymen ; and 
miracle plays representing the lives of patron 
saints were given by schools, trade gilds, and 
other lay institutions. A further development 
appeared when, instead of single plays, whole 
series such as the extant York, Chester, and 
Coventry cycles were given, dealing in chrono- 



SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 13 

logical order with the most important events in 
Bible history from the Creation to the Day of 
Judgment. 

The stage used for the miracle play as thus 
developed was a platform mounted on wheels, 
which was moved from space to space through 
the streets. Each trade undertook one or more 
plays, and, when possible, these were allotted with 
reference to the nature of the particular trade. 
Thus the play representing the visit of the Magi 
bearing gifts to the infant Christ was given to the 
goldsmiths, and the Building of the Ark to the 
carpenters. The costumes were conventional and 
frequently grotesque. Judas always wore red 
hair and a red beard ; Herod appeared as a fierce 
Saracen ; the devil had a terrifying mask and a 
tail ; and divine personages wore gilt hair. 

Meanwhile the attitude of the church towards 
these performances had changed. Priests were 
forbidden to take part in them, and as early as 
the fourteenth century we find sermons directed 
against them. The secular management had a 
more important result in the introduction of 
comic elements. Figures such as Noah's wife and 
Herod became frankly farcical, and whole episodes 
drawn from contemporary life and full of local 
color were invented, in which the original aim 
of edification was displaced by an explicit attempt 
at pure entertainment. Most of these features 
were characteristic of the religious drama in gen- 



14 INTRODUCTION. 

eral throughout Western Europe. But the local 
and contemporary elements naturally tended to 
become national ; and in England we find in these 
humorous episodes the beginnings of native 
comedy. 

Long before the miracle plays had reached their 
height, the next stage in the development of the 
drama had begum Even in very early performances 
there had appeared, among the dramatis personae 
drawn from the Scriptures, personifications of 
abstract qualities such as Righteousness, Peace, 
Mercy, and Truth. In the fifteenth century this 
allegorical tendency, which was prevalent also in 
the non-dramatic literature of the age, resulted in 
the rise of another kind of play, the Morality, 
in which all the characters were personifications, 
and in which the aim, at first the teaching of 
moral lessons, later became frequently satirical. 
Thus the most powerful of all the Moralities, 
Sir David Lindesay's Satire of the Three Estates, 
is a direct attack upon the corruption in the 
church just before the Reformation. 

The advance implied in the Morality consisted 
not so much in any increase in the vitality of the 
characters or in the interest of the plot (in both 
of which, indeed, there was usually a falling off), 
as in the fact that in it the drama had freed 
itself from the bondage of having to choose its 
subject matter from one set of sources — the 
Bible, the Apocrypha, and the Lives of the Saints. 



SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 15 

This freedom was shared by the Interlude, a 
form not always to be distinguished from the 
Morality, but one in which the tendency was to 
substitute for personified abstractions actual 
social types such as the Priest, the Pardoner, or 
the Palmer. A feature of both forms was the 
Vice, a humorous character who appeared under 
the various disguises of Hypocrisy, Fraud, and 
the like, and whose function it was to make fun, 
chiefly at the expense of the Devil. The Vice 
is historically important as having bequeathed 
some of his characteristics to the Fool of the later 
drama. 

John Heywood, the most important writer of 
Interludes, lived well into the reign of Elizabeth, 
and even the miracle play persisted into the 
reign of her successor in the seventeenth cen- 
tury. But long before it finally disappeared 
it had become a mere medieval survival. A new 
England had meantime come into being and new 
forces were at work, manifesting themselves in a 
dramatic literature infinitely beyond anything 
even suggested by the crude forms which have 
been described. 

The great European intellectual movement 
known as the Renaissance had at last reached 
England, and it brought with it materials for an 
unparalleled advance in all the living forms of 
literature. Italy and the classics, especially, 
supplied literary models and material. Not only 



16 INTRODUCTION. 

were translations from these sources abundant, 
but Italian players visited England, and per- 
formed before Queen Elizabeth. France and 
Spain, as well as Italy, flooded the literary mar- 
ket with collections of tales, from which, both in 
the original languages and in such translations as 
are found in Paynter's Palace of Pleasure (pub- 
lished 1566-67), the dramatists drew materials 
for their plots. 

These literary conditions, however, did not do 
much beyond offering a means of expression. 
For a movement so magnificent in scale as that 
which produced the Elizabethan Drama, some- 
thing is needed besides models and material. In 
the present instance this something is to be found 
in the state of exaltation which characterized the 
spirit of the English people in the days of Queen 
Elizabeth. Politically, the nation was at last one 
after the protracted divisions of the Reformation, 
and its pride was stimulated by its success in the 
fight with Spain. Intellectually, it was sharing 
with the rest of Europe the exhilaration of the 
Eenaissance. New lines of action in all parts of 
the world, new lines of thought in all depart- 
ments of scholarship and speculation, were open- 
ing up ; and the whole land was throbbing with 
life. 

In its very beginnings the new movement in Eng- 
land showed signs of that combination of native 
tradition and foreign influence which was to char- 



SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 17 

acterize it throughout. The first regular English 
comedy, Udall's Ralph Roister Doister was an 
adaptation of the plot of the Miles Gloriosus of 
Plautus to contemporary English life. After a 
short period of experiment by amateurs working 
chiefly under the influence of Seneca, we come on 
a band of professional playwrights who not only 
prepared the way for Shakspere, but in some 
instances produced works of great intrinsic worth. 
The mythological dramas of Lyly with the bright 
repartee of their prose dialogue and the music of 
their occasional lyrics, the interesting experiments 
of Greene and Peele, and the horrors of the 
tragedy of Kyd, are all full of suggestions of what 
was to come. But by far the greatest of Shaks- 
pere 's forerunners was Christopher Marlowe, who 
not only has the credit of fixing blank verse as the 
future poetic medium for English tragedy, but 
who in his plays from Tamlurlaine to Edivard II. 
contributed to the list of the great permanent 
masterpieces of the English drama. 

It was in the professional society of these men 
that Shakspere found himself when he came to 

London. Born in the provincial 
Early ifife. S town of Stratford-on-Avon in the 

heart of England, he was bap- 
tized on April 26, 1564 (May 6th, according to 
our reckoning). The exact day of his birth *s 
unknown. His father was John Shakspere, a 
fairly prosperous tradesman, who may be supposed. 



18 INTEODUCTION. 

to have followed the custom of his class in edu- 
cating his son. If this were so, William would be 
sent to the Grammar School, already able to 
read, when he was seven, and there he would be 
set to work on Latin Grammar, followed by read- 
ing, up to the fourth year, in Cato's Maxims, 
Aesop's Fables, and parts of Ovid, Cicero, and 
the medieval poet Mantuanus. If he continued 
through the fifth and sixth years, he would read 
parts of Vergil, Horace, Terence, Plautus, and 
the Satirists. Greek was not usually taught in 
the Grammar Schools. Whether he went through 
this course or not we have no means of knowing, 
except the evidence afforded by the use of the 
classics in his works, and the famous dictum of 
his friend, Ben Jonson, that he had " small 
Latin and less Greek." What we are sura of is 
that he was a boy with remarkable acuteness of 
observation, who used his chances for picking up 
facts of all kinds; for only thus could he have 
accumulated the fund of information which he 
put to such a variety of uses in his writings. 

Throughout the poet's boyhood the fortunes of 
John Shakspere kept improving until he reached 
the position of High Bailiff or Mayor of Stratford. 
When William was about thirteen, however, his 
father began to meet with, reverses, and these are 
conjectured to have led to the boy's being taken 
from school early and set to work. What business 
he was taught we do not know, and indeed we 



SHAKSPEEE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. ,19 

have little more information about him till the 
date of his marriage in November, 1582, to Anne 
Hathaway, a woman from a neighboring village, 
who was seven years his senior. Concerning his 
occupations in the years immediately preceding 
and succeeding his marriage several traditions 
have come down, — of his having been apprenticed 
as a butcher, of his having taken part in poaching 
expeditions, and the like — but none of these is 
based upon sufficient evidence. About 1585 he 
left Stratford, and probably by the next year he 
had found his way to London. 

How soon and in what capacity he first became 
attached to the theatres we are again unable to 
say, but by 1592 he had certainly been engaged 
in theatrical affairs long enough to give some 
occasion for the jealous outburst of a rival play- 
wright, Robert Greene, who, in a pamphlet 
posthumously published in that year, accused him 
of plagiarism. Henry Chettle, the editor of 
Greene's pamphlet, shortly after apologized for his 
connection with the charge, and bore witness to 
Shakspere's honorable reputation as a man and to 
his skill both as an actor and a dramatist. 

Robert Greene, who thus supplies us with the 
earliest extant indications of his rival's presence 
in London, was in many ways a typical figure among 
the playwrights with whom Shakspere worked 
during this early period. A member of both 
universities, Greene came to the metropolis while 



20 INTRODUCTION. 

yet a young man, and there led a life of the most 
diversified literary activity, varied with bouts of 
the wildest debauchery. He was a writer of 
satirical and controversial pamphlets, of romantic 
tales, of elegiac, pastoral, and lyric poetry, a 
translator, a dramatist, — in fact, a literary jack- 
of-all-trades. The society in which he lived con- 
sisted in part of "University Wits" like himself, 
in part of the low men and women who haunted 
the vile taverns of the slums to prey upon such as 
he. "A world of blackguardism dashed with 
genius," it has been called, and the phrase is fit 
enough. Among such surroundings Greene lived, 
and among them he died, bankrupt in body and 
estate, the victim of his own ill-governed passions. 
In conjunction with such men as this Shakspere 
began his life-work. His first dramatic efforts 
were made in revising the plays of his predeces- 
sors with a view to their revival on the stage ; and 
in Titus Andronicus and the first part of Henry 
VI. we have examples of this kind of work. 
The next step was probably the production of 
plays in collaboration with other writers, and to 
this practice, which he almost abandoned in the 
middle of his career, he seems to have returned in 
his later years in such plays as Pericles, Henry 
VIII. , and The Two Noble Kinsmen. How far 
Shakspere was of this dissolute set to which his 
fellow-workers belonged it is impossible to tell; 
but we know that by and by, as he gained mastery 



SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 21 

over his art and became more and more independ- 
ent in work and in fortune, he left this sordid 
life behind him, and aimed at the establishment 
of a family. In half a dozen years from the time 
of Greene's attack, he had reached the top of his 
profession, was a sharer in the profits of his 
theatre, and had invested his savings in land and 
houses in his native town. The youth who ten 
years before had left Stratford poor and burdened 
with a wife and three children, had now become 
"William Shakspere, Gentleman." 

During these years Shakspere's literary work 
was not confined to the drama, which, indeed, 
was then hardly regarded as a form of literature. 
In 1593 he published Venus and Adonis, and in 
1594, Lucrece, two poems belonging to a class of 
highly wrought versions of classical legends which 
was then fashionable, and of which Marlowe's 
Hero and Leander is the other most famous ex- 
ample. For several years, too, in the last decade 
of the sixteenth century and the first few years 
of the seventeenth, he was composing a series 
of sonnets on love and friendship, in this, too, 
following a literary fashion of the time. Yet 
these give us more in the way of self -revelation 
than anything else he has left. From them we 
seem to be able to catch glimpses of his attitude 
towards his profession, and one of them makes us 
realize so vividly his perception of the tragic risks 
of his surroundings that it is set down here : 



22 INTRODUCTION. 

O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, 

The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, 
That did not better for my life provide 

Than public means which public manners breeds. 
Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, 

And almost thence my nature is subdued 
To what it works in, like the dyer's hand: 

Pity me then and wish I were renewed; 
Whilst, like a willing patient, I will drink 

Potions of eisel 'gainst my strong infection; 
No bitterness that I will bitter think, 

Nor double penance to correct correction. 
Pity me then, dear friend, and I assure ye 

Even that your pity is enough to cure me. 

It does not seem possible to avoid the inferences 
lying on the surface in this poem ; but whatever 
confessions it may imply, it serves, too, to give us 
the assurance that Shakspere did not easily and 
blindly yield to the temptations that surrounded 
the life of the theatre of his time. 

For the theatre of Shakspere's day was no very 
reputable affair. Externally it appears to us now 
The Eliza. a ver y mea g Te apparatus — almost 
foetkan absurdly so, when we reflect on the 

grandeur of the compositions for 
which it gave occasion. A roughly circular 
wooden building, with a roof over the stage 
and over the galleries, but with the pit often 
open to the wind and weather, having very 
little scenery and practically no attempt at the 
achievement of stage-illusion, — such was the 
scene of the production of some of the greatest 



SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 23 

imaginative works the world has seen. Nor was 
the audience very choice. The more respectable 
citizens of Puritan tendencies frowned on the 
theatre to such an extent that it was found advis- 
able to place the buildings outside the city limits, 
and beyond the jurisdiction of the city fathers. 
The pit was thronged with a motley crowd of 
petty tradesfolk and the dregs of the town ; the 
gallants of the time sat on stools on the stage, 
" drinking" tobacco and chaffing the actors, their 
efforts divided between displaying their wit and 
their clothes. The actors were all male, the 
women's parts being taken by boys whose voices 
were not yet broken. The costumes, frequently 
the cast-off clothing of the gallants, were often 
gorgeous, but seldom appropriate. Thus the suc- 
cess of the performance had to depend upon the 
excellence of the piece, the merit of the acting, 
and the readiness of appreciation of the audience. 
This last point, however, was more to be relied 
upon than a modern student might imagine. 
Despite their dubious respectability, the Eliza- 
bethan play-goers must have been of wonderfully 
keen intellectual susceptibilities. For clever feats 
in the manipulation of language, for puns, 
happy alliterations, delicate melody such as we 
find in the lyrics of the times, for the thunder of 
the pentameter as it rolls through the tragedies of 
Marlowe, they had a practiced taste. Qualities 
which we now expect to appeal chiefly to the 



24 INTRODUCTION. 

closet student were keenly relished by men who 
could neither read nor write, and who at the same 
time enjoyed jokes which would be too broad, and 
stage massacres which would be too bloody, for a 
modern audience of sensibilities much less acute 
in these other directions. In it all we see how 
far-reaching was the wonderful vitality of the 
time. 

This audience Shakspere knew thoroughly, and 
in his writing he showed himself always, with 
sixakspere's whatever growth in permanent ar- 
©ramatic tistic qualities, the clever man of 

Development. businegs with } lis eye on the mar- 
ket. Thus we can trace throughout the course 
of his production two main lines : one indicative 
of the changes of theatrical fashions ; one, more 
subtle and more liable to misinterpretation, show- 
ing the progress of his own spiritual growth. 

The chronology of Shakspere's plays will prob- 
ably never be made out with complete assurance, 
but already much has been ascertained (1) from 
external evidence such as dates of acting or pub- 
lication, and allusions in other works, and (2) 
from internal evidence such as references to books 
or events of known date, and considerations of 
metre and language. The following arrangement 
represents what is probably an approximately 
correct view of the chronological sequence of his 
works, though scholars are far from being agreed 
upon many of the details. 



SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 



25 



OS § 



© 



© 03 

cS d 

2 « 

£ s 
P3H 



gt-iM 



c~ 



hP3P3 



©> 

C5 S 



\ 








c8 






Sh 






-M 






C3 






& 






2 o 






© 




\ 


So 






03 




C^«M c3 


d 


^ 


© o . 


d 




►^d£ 


as 


©^ 


bo o o 


^ 




•3.2 "S 




'J 



© 
03^ 

h3 ° 
d 



o 

3h 



o £ o 
JEhO 



o.S 



^81 

©.^22^ d^ 

[>g C« (D O OM-P 

© ©^^ > o -^ £ 



<1 d 1 



J d .3 

g»*d5o^© 
©.d^3 3 © d ^ £ 



e3 © 
® © 



- v © 

CO ^ 

d d 

-d & 



o o o o 

tD CD «5 O 



r> co o 
o o o 

©to© 



©H 



3 .S S 



26 INTRODUCTION. 

The first of these groups contains three comedies 
of a distinctly experimental character, and a 
number of chronicle-histories, some of which, like 
the three parts of Henry VI., were almost cer- 
tainly written in collaboration with other play- 
wrights. The comedies are light, full of ingen- 
ious plays on words, and the verse is often 
rhymed. The first of them, at least, shows the 
influence of Lyly. The histories also betray a 
considerable delight in language for its own sake, 
and the Marlowesque blank verse, at its best 
eloquent and highly poetical, not infrequently 
becomes ranting, while the pause at the end of 
each line tends to become monotonous. No copy 
of Borneo and Juliet in its earliest form is known 
to be in existence, and the extent of Shakspere's 
share in Titus Andronicus is still debated. 

The second period contains a group of comedies 
marked by brilliance in the dialogue ; wholesome- 
ness, capacity, and high spirits in the main char- 
acters, and a pervading feeling of good-humor. 
The histories contain a larger comic element than 
in the first period, and are no longer suggestive of 
Marlowe. Ehymes have become less frequent, and 
the blank verse has freed itself from the bondage 
of the end-stopped line. 

The plays of the third period are tragedies, or 
comedies with a prevailing tragic tone. Shaks- 
pere here turned his attention to those elements 
in life- which produce perplexity and disaster, and 



SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 27 

in this series of masterpieces we have his most 
magnificent achievement. His power of perfect 
adaptation of language to thonght and feeling 
had now reached its height, and his verse had 
become thoroughly flexible without having lost 
strength. 

In the fourth period Shakspere returned to 
comedy. These plays, written during his last 
years in London, are again romantic in subject 
and treatment, and technically seem to show the 
influence of the earlier successes of Beaumont and 
Fletcher. But in place of the high spirits which 
characterized the comedies of the earlier periods 
we have a placid optimism, and a recurrence of 
situations which are more ingenious than plausi- 
ble, and which are marked externally by reunions 
and reconciliations and internally by repentance 
and forgiveness. The verse is singularly sweet 
and highly poetical 5 and the departure from the 
end-stopped line has now gone so far that we see 
clearly the beginnings of that tendency which 
went to such an extreme in some of Shakspere's 
successors that it at times became hard to dis- 
tinguish the metre at all. 

In Two Noble Kinsmen and Henry VIII, 
Shakspere again worked in partnership, the col- 
laborator being, in all probability, John Fletcher. 

Nothing that we know of Shakspere's life from 
external sources justifies us in saying, as has 
frequently been said, that the changes of mood in 



28 INTRODUCTION. 

his work from period to period corresponded to 
changes in the man Shakspere. As an artist he 
certainly seems to have viewed life now in this 
light, now in that; but it is worth noting that the 
period of his gloomiest plays coincides with the 
period of his greatest worldly prosperity. It has 
already been hinted, too, that much of his change 
of manner and subject was dictated by the vari- 
ations of theatrical fashion and the example of 
successful contemporaries'. 

Throughout nearly the whole of these marvel - 
ously fertile years Shakspere seems to have stayed 

in London; but from 1610 to 1612 
Lasf Tears? ne was ma king Stratford more and 

more his place of abode, and at the 
same time he was beginning to write less. After 
1611 he wrote only in collaboration; and having 
spent about five years in peaceful retirement in 
the town from which he had set out a penniless 
youth, and to which he returned a man of reputa- 
tion and fortune, he died on April 23, 1616. His 
only son, Hamnet, having died in boyhood, of his 
immediate family there survived him his wife and 
his two daughters, Susanna and Judith, both of 
whom were well married. He lies buried in the 
parish church of Stratford. 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 29 



II. AS YOU LIKE IT. 

The earliest reference to the comedy of As You 
Like It is found in an entry in the Stationers' Eeg- 

ister, under the date of August 4, 1600. 

How much earlier the play was com- 
posed is uncertain, but no modern critic of author- 
ity places it earlier than 1598. The reference in 
III. v. 81-82 to Marlowe's Hero and Leander (pub- 
lished in 1598) may be taken as fixing the earlier 
limit, unless we suppose, as there is no need to 
do in this case, that Shakspere knew the poem in 
manuscript. The evidence from metre, too, indi- 
cates 1599-1600 as a probable date, and, with slight 
variations, there is a general agreement in this. 
The play thus appears at the climax of Shak- 
spere's achievement as a comic dramatist, and 
belongs, with Much Ado about Nothing and 
Twelfth Night, to the group of comedies charac- 
terized by a cheerful optimism not untinged with 
a sense of the more serious elements in life, by a 
satisfactory wholesomeness in the heroes and 
heroines, by sparkling dialogue, and by complete 
mastery of a flexible and melodious blank verse. 
Although the play was entered in the registers 
of the Stationers' Company in 1600, it does not 

seem to have been published till Hem- 
source of inge and Oondell issued the first col- 

the text. ° 

lected edition of Shakspere's works in 
the Folio of 1623. From this edition the present 



30 INTRODUCTION. 

text is taken, with a few modifications drawn 
chiefly from the later Folios and the emendations 
of modern editors. 

"Stories which relate the fate of a younger 
brother who is deprived of his inheritance by the 
jealousy of a senior brother, and who 
t£e r pfot f nevertheless achieves great prosperity, 
are as old as the time of Joseph." 1 
To this class belongs an anonymous Middle 
English poem, found in several MSS. of Chaucer's 
Canterbury Tales, into which it has been inserted 
with the title, TJie Coke's Tale of Gamely n. The 
poem is not by Chaucer, and has no real relation 
to his fragmentary Cook's Tale. On the basis of 
this tale, Thomas Lodge, an Elizabethan writer, 
composed a novel called Rosalynde, Euphues' 
Golden Legacie; and this novel in turn Shakspere 
dramatized in As You Like It. It does not appear 
that Shakspere knew The Tale of Gamely n. 

Lodge's novel is an admirable example of two 
of the most fashionable literary tendencies of the 
end of the sixteenth century : it is a pastoral in 
form, and it is euphuistic in style. 

The tradition of the pastoral had begun in 
classical times with the Idylls of Theocritus, had 
been carried on by Vergil, and, in the period of 
the Eenaissance, had been revived with many 
modifications in Italy. From Italy it had spread 

1 Skeat : Introduction to The Tale of Gamelyn, 
Oxford, 1890, p. 1. 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 31 

to other countries, and in England it had affected 
yarious forms of literature, especially the lyric, 
the drama,, and the prose romance. Before the 
date of Lodge's book, the most notable products 
of this impulse had been Edmund Spenser's Shep- 
heardes Calender and Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia. 

Originally, the pastoral had represented the 
life of real shepherds ; but in the course of time it 
had come to be an almost purely artificial form, 
in which the scene was laid in an imaginary 
Arcadia, where the supposed shepherds wandered 
through woods and fields, making love, composing 
songs, and playing on oaten pipes. The introduc- 
tion of courtiers living a rustic life, and the 
mingling of foresters and people of other rural 
occupations with shepherds proper, were already 
familiar before they appeared in Lodge's novel. 

The style of Rosalynde is called euphuistic 
because it follows the fashion set in 1579 by John 
Lyly in his romance of Euphues. Its character- 
istic qualities are excessive alliteration and 
antithesis, and the abundant use of classical 
illustrations and of similes drawn from mythical 
natural history. The following passage illus- 
trates Lodge's manner of describing a typical 
pastoral situation in euphuistic language : 

The ground where they sat was diapered with 
Flora's riches, as if she meant to wrap Tellus in the 
glory of her vestments .... Fast by (to make the place 
more gorgeous) was there a fount so crystalline and 



32 INTRODUCTION. 

clear, that it seemed Diana with her Dryads and Hama- 
dryads had that spring as the secret of all their bath- 
ings. In this glorious arbour sat these two shepherds 
(seeing their sheep feed) playing on their pipes many 
pleasant tunes, and from music and melody falling into 
much amorous chat. Drawing more nigh we might 
descry the countenance of the one to be full of sorrow, 
his face to be the very portraiture of discontent, and his 
eyes full of woes, that living he seemed to die. 

In turning Rosalynde into a play, Shakspere 
dropped entirely the euphuism, but retained many 
pastoral characteristics. In retaining these, he 
was following not only his source, but the exam- 
ple of other dramatists who had scored successes 
with pastorals on the stage. The more conven- 
tional pastoral features to be detected in As You 
Like It are these: the shepherds and foresters, 
both those who are actual rustics and those who 
are courtiers living in retirement; the love-sick 
shepherd and obdurate shepherdess, of whom 
Phebe and Sylvius are thoroughly typical ; the girl 
in the dress of a page ; the hanging or carving of 
_ verses on trees; the hunting scene and song; the 
figure of Hymen ; and the suggested landscape of 
woodland, sheep-cote, and pasture. 

A further contemporary influence on Shak- 
spere' s treatment of the story may be found in a 
number of plays dealing with the life and adven- 
tures of Robin Hood. 1 A forest life, such as that 

1 Such are The Downfall of Robert, Earl of Hunt- 
ington, by Anthony Munday, and TJie Death of Robert, 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 33 

of the banished Duke (which is mentioned but 
not described by Lodge), and even his cheerful 
attitude towards adversity, had been features of 
such plays. Thus to the spectators who first saw 
As You Like It acted, the comedy must have 
appeared not merely as the dramatization of a 
popular novel, but also as a particularly charming 
combination of types of drama of which they 
had already shown their appreciation. 

But in transforming Rosalynde into As You 
Like It, Shakspere left out much besides the 
euphuism, and added much besides the Eobin 
Hood element. A complete understanding of the 
nature and extent of his omissions and additions 
can be got only by a close comparison of the play 
and the novel, scene by scene. But something of 
his method may be gathered from the following 
summary of the most significant changes : 

1. The length of time covered by the action is 
much shorter in the play than in the novel. 
Lodge begins with the death -bed of Sir John of 
Bourdeaux (= Sir Eoland de Boys), while Shak- 
spere summarizes in Orlando's opening speech 
all the story previous to the quarrel between Oliver 
and Orlando. Lodge indicates long intervals 
between the quarrel and the wrestling, and 
between the wrestling and Orlando's setting out, 

Earl of Huntington, by Anthony Munday and Henry 
Chettle, reprinted in Hazlitt's edition of Dodsley's Old 
English Plays, Vol. VIII, London, 1874. 



34 INTRODUCTION. 

while Shakspere makes them follow in rapid suc- 
cession. Besides increasing the rapidity of the 
action, this change avoids having Orlando hear of 
Eosalind's banishment, and yet stay at home 
in unloverlike fashion. Compression of the ear- 
lier events is again aided by narrating instead 
of representing the wrestling of the old man's 
sons. 

2. Shakspere omits a whole series of tumultuous 
incidents occurring after Eosader's (= Orlando's) 
victory, when, with a band of companions, he 
breaks into Saladyne's (= Oliver's) castle, and 
banquets at his brother's expense. A peace is 
patched up between the brothers by old Adam, 
but later Saladyne takes Eosader asleep, binds 
him to a post, and denies him food and drink. 
Aclam releases him, and together they drive out 
Saladyne and his friends, who return with the 
sheriff and twenty-five men. Eosader and Adam 
break through and escape to the Forest of Arden. 
The omission of all this rowdyism increases the 
refinement of Shakspere's Orlando, and makes the 
love plot more prominent. 

3. In Lodge, Torismond ( = Duke Frederick) 
throws Saladyne into prison, professedly for the 
wrongs he had done to Eosader and because by 
his means the king had lost "a most brave and 
resolute chevalier." Saladyne's meditations in 
prison bring about his change of heart. Later 
he is banished, that Torismond may seize his 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 35 

estates. Shakspere saves time by banishing Oliver 
at once, and makes his conversion the result of 
Orlando's magnanimity. 

4. In the novel, a band of rascals attempt to 
kidnap Alinda. Eosader attempts a rescue, but is 
being worsted when Saladyne comes to his assist- 
ance and drives off the assailants. Eosader is 
wounded in the scuffle. This episode brings about 
the meeting of Saladyne and Alinda, which in the 
play :s contrived by making Oliver bring news of 
Orlando's wound from the lioness, an incident 
which Shakspere invented. The wooing of Alinda 
is told in detail in the novel ; in the play it is only 
reported. Condensation is here again the main 
object of the changes. 

5. Immediately after the weddings in Lodge's 
book, Fernandyne ( = Jaques de Boys) brings 
news that the twelve peers of France are up in 
arms on behalf of Gerisrnond ( = Duke Senior). 
The Duke, Saladyne, and Eosader take horses 
and armor, and arrive at the scene of conflict in 
time to turn the tide of battle. Torismond is 
overthrown and slain. Shakspere 's milder device 
of the conversion of Frederick, however uncon- 
vincing, suits better the mood of reconciliation 
and forgiveness which dominates the play. 

6. The novel contains these somewhat sordid 
elements, which are not in the play: (a) At the 
outset Eosalynde attempts to control her love by 
consideration of Eosader's poverty; (b) Sala- 



36 INTRODUCTION. 

dyne's action towards Rosader is due to covetous- 
ness of the larger share which the younger had 
received from his father, while in the play Orlando 
gets only a small legacy and is envied by his 
brother for his popular qualities; (c) Rosader 
hesitates to save his brother from the lioness, not 
from a natural impulse towards revenge, but from a 
calculation that Saladyne's fortune might possibly 
aid him in winning Rosalynde ; (d) at the close, 
Saladyne is "in a dumpe" at his brother's lucky 
match with the King's ( = Duke's) daughter, until 
he finds out the rank of Alinda. 

7. The characters throughout are much more 
vividly realized in the play, and many minor 
changes are made, some of which are remarked 
in the notes. Thus, in Lodge, Rosalynde is 
comparatively lacking in humor, overshadows 
Alinda ( = Celia) less than in the play, and is less 
severe on Phoebe. Rosader, after the wrestling, 
is sufficiently self-controlled to compose a sonnet 
to Rosalynde, while in the play he is dumb with 
embarrassment ; and in the scene with Adam in 
the forest it is he who in despair is comforted by 
Adam, instead of. the reverse. In the novel, 
Phoebe refuses Montanus ( = Silvius) because she 
has a theoretical scorn of love, falls ill from 
her passion for Ganymede, and when the seeming 
page visits her, confesses the cause of her sick- 
ness. The self-abnegation of Montanus is exag- 
gerated by making him willing to have Ganymede 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 37 

marry Phoebe to save her life, and by making him 
aware of the tenor of the letter he carries to Gany- 
mede from his mistress. He is also endowed with 
the conventional pastoral accomplishments of com- 
posing sonnets and the like, and so removed farther 
than in Shakspere from the natural shepherd. 

8. The characters of Jaques, Touchstone, 
Audrey, William, Dennis, Le Beau, Amiens, the 
first Lord, and Sir Oliver Martext, are all added 
by Shakspere, and also, of course, the parts of 
the action in which they are prominent. It is to 
be noticed that, with the exception of the farce 
of Touchstone and Audrey, the plot itself is not 
affected by these additions. Much, however, of 
the distinctive atmosphere of the play, much of its 
philosophy, its humor, its lyric beauty, and its 
suggested landscape, result from the utterances 
of these invented characters. 

More than half of the present play is written in 

prose, and it is important to observe the principles 

on which Shakspere here bases his 

lYAGirG* i « /a 

choice of prose or verse as a medium of 
expression. As a rule, verse is used by men of 
high rank, such as the dukes and lords; prose 
by women, servants, and fools. Verse is used in 
situations where the feeling is elevated or intense, 
in highly imaginative or sententious passages, in 
conventional scenes such as the pastoral dialogues 
of Phebe and Silvius ; prose in farce, repartee, and 
commonplace conversation. 



38 INTRODUCTION. 

The verse used, except in the songs, is the 
blank verse which for a dozen years had been the 
standard metre of the Elizabethan drama. The 
normal type has five iambic feet, that is, ten syl- 
lables with the stress falling on the even syllables. 
From this regular form, however, Shakspere 
deviates with great freedom, the commonest 
variations being the following : 

1. The addition of an extra syllable, usually 
before a pause, and so most frequently, though 
not always, at the end of a line; e.g. : 

Which when | it bites | and blows | upon ] my bo ] dy, 

II. i. 8. 
That can | translate | the stub | bornness | of for | tune, 

II. i. 19. 
And faints | for sue | cour. | Fair sir, | I pi | ty her | , 

II. iv. 77. 

2. Frequently what seems an extra syllable is 
to be slurred in reading; e.g. : 

I would | thou hadst told | me of I ano | ther fa | ther, 
I. ii. 250, 

where "thou hadst" is to be pronounced 
"thou'dst." 

Than a | ny of | her lin \ eaments ] can show | her, III. 
v. 56, 

where "lineaments" is trisyllabic. In some lines 
it is doubtful whether a syllable is to be slurred 
or read as a light extra syllable; e.g. : 
Jealous | in ho | nour, sud \ den, and quick | in quar | 
rel, II. vii. 151, 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 39 

where, with the punctuation in the text, the 
second syllable of "sudden" is additional, but, 
without the comma, it is to be read "sudd'- 
nand." 

3. Sometimes an emphatic syllable stands alone 
as a foot, the unaccented syllable being omitted; 
e.g.: 

Peace, | I say. | Good e | ven'to | you, friend, f II. iv. 71. 
Bring | us to | this sight, | and you | shall say, | III. iv. 
60. 

4. Short lines, lacking one or more feet, occur; 
e.g.: 

Thou hast not loved, II. iv. 36. 
Why, who cries out on pride, II. vii. 70. 

5. Long lines of six feet are not uncommon; 
e.g.: 

I see | no more | in you | than in | the or | dinary, | III. 

v. 42. 
You fool | ish shep | herd, where ] fore do | you fol | 

low her, | III. v. 49. 

Usually in such lines some words bearing the 
metrical accent are quite unemphatic as read, and 
many Alexandrines, as iambic hexameters are 
called, may be read so as to give the impression 
of normal length; e.g. : 

Of smooth civility. Yet am I inland bred, II. vii. 96. 
In bitterness. The common executioner, III. v. 3. 

6. Frequently, especially in the first foot, a 
trochee is substituted for an iambus, i.e., the 



40 INTRODUCTION. 

accent falls on the odd instead of on the even 

syllable; e.g. : 
t 
Sweet are | the uses of adversity, II. 1. 12. 
i 
Such Ethiop words, | blacker | in their effect, IV. iii. 

36. 

7. It must be remembered, however, that some 
words have been altered in pronunciation since 
Shakspere's time. Thus the accent is changed in 
exile, II. i. 1, exiled, V. iv. 175, confines, II. i. 24, 
antique, II. iii. 57, quintessence, III. ii. 142, 
aspect, IV, iii. 54, com/pact, V. iv. 5; though 
Shakspere has elsewhere, in many of these words, 
the modern accentuation also. Again, condit-i-on, 

I. ii. 284, intermiss-i-on, II. vii. 32, observat-i-on, 

II. vii. 41, reputat-i-on, II. vii. 152, act-i-on, IV. 
iii. 10, pat-i-ence, I. iii. 79, all have the termina- 
tion dissyllabic. 

8. Occasional rhymes occur. These are found 
chiefly at the end of scenes or of speeches of some 
length, or in utterances more or less proverbial 
in character; e.g.: I. ii., I. iii., II. iii., II. iv., 
II. vii., III. iv., V. iv. , all end in rhyming coup- 
lets, and II. iii. 67-68, III. v. 78-79, V. iv. 186-189, 
202-203, are rhyming lines giving point to the 
close of speeches. 

Although differences between the language of 
Shakspere and that of our own day are obvious 
to the most casual reader, there is a risk that 
the student may underestimate the extent of these 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 41 

differences, and, assuming that similarity of form 
implies identity of meaning, miss the true inter- 
pretation. The most important in- 

Language. x » • 

stances 01 change 01 meaning are 
explained in the notes; but a clearer view of 
the nature and extent of the contrast between the 
language of As You Like It and modern English 
will be gained by a classification of the most fre- 
quent features of this contrast. Some of the 
Shaksperean usages are merely results of the 
carelessness and freedom which the more elastic 
standards of the Elizabethan time permitted; 
others are forms of expression at that time quite 
accurate, but now become obsolete. 

1. Nouns. The sign of the possessive sin- 
gular is sometimes omitted in dissyllables which 
already contain one or more sibilants, or where 
the following word begins with "s" ; e.g. : "fashion 
sake," III. ii. 268; "sentence end," III. ii. 139. 
Cf. our modern usages, "justice' sake," etc. 

2. Adjectives. Double comparatives occur; 
e.g.: "more sounder," III. ii. 65; "more worth- 
ier," III. iii. 63. 

3. Pronouns, (a) The nominative is often 
used for the objective; e.g.: "What he is, 
indeed, more suits you to conceive than I to 
speak of," I. ii. 286-87; "who doth he trot 
withal?" III. ii. 326; "who you saw," III. iv. 
51. 

(b) Confusion between the personal and the 



42 INTRODUCTION. 

reflexive forms is common; e.g.: "I confess me 
much guilty," I. ii. 200; "Quit Thee," III. i. 11. 

(c) The ethical dative is more frequent than in 
modern speech; e.g.: "I'll rhyme you so eight 
years together," III. ii. 96. 

(d) The relative is often omitted after "there 
is," "there are," etc., as it frequently is in mod- 
ern colloquial English ; e.g. : "There was not any 
man A died," IV. i. 101; "There's a girl A goes 
before the priest," IV. i. 147. 

4. Verbs, (a) A singular verb is often found 
with two subjects or with a plural subject, espe- 
cially if the subject is a relative pronoun and so 
has no plural inflection; e.g. : " 'Tis such fools as 
you that makes the world full of ill-favour'd chil- 
dren," III. v. 52-53; "Our master and mistress 
seeks you," V. i. 66; "Thou and I am one," I. 
iii. 98. 

(b) The "n" is frequently dropped from the 
ending of the past participle of strong verbs; 
e.g.: "spoke" for "spoken," I. i. 92; "broke" 
for "broken," II. iv. 40. 

(c) Verbs of motion are at times omitted; e.g. : 
"I can tell who should A down," I. ii. 234; "It 
will A out at the casement," IV. i. 172. 

5. Adverbs. (a) Double negatives are used 
with a merely intensive force; e.g.: "And yet 
give no thousand crowns neither," I. i. 95; 
"Afar shalt not," II. vii. 89; "Mr . . . there 
is no force," III. v. 26; "Mr doth not hear," 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 43 

V. iii. 118. Cf. alsoV. iv. 92; epilogue,!, 9; 
etc. 

(b) An adverb is sometimes used where good 
modern usage requires an adjective; e.g. : " Looks 
he as freshly," III. ii. 240; "Those that she 
makes honest she makes very ill-favouredly ," for 
"ill-favoured," I. ii. 44. For "He looks suc- 
cessfully," see note on I. ii. 166. 

6. Peepositions. (a) These are at times un- 
necessarily repeated; e.g. : "Of what kind should 
this cock come ofV* II. vii. 90; "Wherein we 
play tn," II. vii. 139. 

(b) Prepositions are sometimes omitted; e.g.: 
"Speak A sad brow," III. ii. 221-22; "I answer 
you A right painted cloth," III. ii. 286. 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 



45 



DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 

Duke, living in banishment. 

Frederick, his brother, and usurper of his dominions. 

Amiens ) 

Jaoues' \^ or< ^ s attending on the banished Duke. 

Le Beau, a courtier attending upon Frederick. 

Charles, wrestler to Frederick. 

Oliver, ) 

Jaques, >• sons of Sir Roland de Boys. 

Orlando, ) 

Adam, | . , rt ,. 

Dennis \ servan t s to Oliver. 

Touchstone, a clown. 

Sir Oliver Martext, a vicar. 

Corin, | 

Silvius, \^P^ds. 

William, a country fellow, in love with Audrey. 

A person representing Hymen. 

Rosalind, daughter to the banished Duke. 
Celia, daughter to Frederick. 
Phebe, a shepherdess. 
Audrey, a country wench. 

Lords, pages, and attendants, etc. 

Scene: Oliver's house; Duke Frederick's court; 
and the Forest of Arden. 



45 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 
ACT FIKST. 

Scene I. 

Orchard of Oliver's house. 

Enter Orlando and Adam. 

Orl, As I remember, Adam, it was upon this 
fashion : bequeathed me by will but poor a 
thousand crowns, and, as thou sayest, 
charged my brother, on his blessing, to breed 

5 me well ; and there begins my sadness. My 
brother Jaques he keeps at school, and report 
speaks goldenly of his profit. For my part, 
he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak 
more properly, stays me here at home unkept ; 

10 for call you that keeping for a gentleman of 
my birth, that differs not from the stalling of 
an ox? His horses are bred better; for, 
besides that they are fair with their feeding, 
they are taught their manage, and to that 

15 end riders dearly hired; but I, his brother, 
gain nothing under him but growth ; for the 
which his animals on his dunghills are as 



48 / AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act I. Sc. i. 

much bound to him as I. Besides this 
nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the 
* something that nature gave me his counte-20 
nance seems to take from me. He lets me 
feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a 
brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines 
my gentility with my education. This is it, 
Adam, that grieves me ; and the spirit of my 25 
father, which I think is within me, begins to 
mutiny against this servitude. I will no longer 
endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy 
how to avoid it. 

Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother. 30 

Orl. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he 
will shake me up. 

Enter Oliver. 

Oli. Now, sir ! what make you here? 

Orl. Nothing. I am not taught to make any 
thing. 35 

Oli. What mar you then, sir? 

Orl. Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that 
which God made, a poor unworthy brother of 
yours, with idleness. 

Oli. Marry, sir, be better employed, and be 40 
naught awhile. 

Orl. Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with 
them? What prodigal portion have I spent, 
that I should come to such penury? 

Oli. Know you where' you are, sir? 45 

Orl. 0, sir, very well; here in your orchard. 



Act I. Sc. i.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 49 

OIL Know you before whom, sir? 

Orl. Ay, better than him I am before knows me. 
I know you are my eldest brother; and, in 
50 the gentle condition of blood, you should so 
know me. The courtesy of nations allows 
you my better, in that you are the first-born ; 
but the same tradition takes not away my 
blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us. 
55 I have as much of my father in me as you ; 
albeit, I confess, your coming before me is 
nearer to his reverence. 

Oli. What, boy! 

Orl. Come, come, elder brother, you are too 
6o young in this. 

OIL Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? 

Orl. I am no villain; I am the youngest son of 
Sir Eoland de Boys ; he was my father, and 
he is thrice a villain that says such a father 
65 begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I 
would not take this hand from thy throat till 
this other had pulled out thy tongue for 
saying so. Thou hast railed on thyself. 

Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for your 
70 father's remembrance, be at accord. 

Oli. Let me go, I say. 

Orl. I will not, till I please ; you shall hear me. 

My father charged you in his will to give me 

good education. You have trained me like a 

75 peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all 

gentleman-like qualities. The spirit of my 



50 I AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act I. Sc. i. 






father grows strong in me, and I will no 
longer endure it; therefore allow me such 
exercises as may become a gentleman, or give 
me the poor allottery my father left me by so 
testament. With that I will go buy my 
fortunes. 

Oli. And what wilt thou do? Beg, when that is 
spent? Well, sir, get you in. I will not 
long be troubled with you; you shall have 85 
some part of your will. I pray you, leave me. 

Orl. I will no further offend you than becomes 
me for my good. 

Oli. Get you with him, you old dog. 

Adam. Is "old dog" my reward? Most true, I90 
have lost my teeth in your service. God be 
with my old master ! He would not have spoke 
such a word. 

[Exeunt Orlando and Adam. 

Oli. Is it even so? Begin you to grow upon me? I 
will physic your rankness, and yet give no 95 
thousand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis ! 

Enter Dennis. 

Ben. Calls your worship? 

OIL Was not Charles, the Duke's wrestler, here 

to speak with me? 
Den. So please you, he is here at the door andioo 

importunes access to you. 
OIL Call him in. [Exit Dennis.'] 'Twill be a 

good way ; and to-morrow the wrestling is. 



ActI. Sc. i] AS YOU LIKE IT. 51 

Enter Charles. 
Olia. Good morrow to your worship. 
105 OIL Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news 
at the new court? 
Cha. There's no news at the court, sir, but 
the old news : that is, the old Duke is ban- 
ished by his younger brother the new Duke ; 
no and three or four loving lords have put them- 
selves into voluntary exile with him, whose 
lands and revenues enrich the new Duke; 
therefore he gives them good leave to wander. 
OIL Can you tell if Eosalind, the Duke's daugh- 
H5 ter, be banished with her father? 

Cha. 0, no; for the Duke's daughter, her cousin, 
so loves her, being ever from their cradles 
bred together, that she would have followed 
her exile, or have died to stay behind her. 
120 She is at the court, and no less beloved of her 
uncle than his own daughter; and never two 
ladies loved as they do. 
OIL Where will the old Duke live? 
Cha. They say he is already in the forest of 
135 Arden, and a many merry men with him; 
and there they live like the old Robin Hood 
of England. They say many young gentle- 
men flock to him every day, and fleet the time 
carelessly, as they did in the golden world. 
130 OIL What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new 
Duke? 
Cha. Marry, do I, sir; and I came to. acquaint 



52 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act I. Sc. i. 

yon with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly 
to nnderstand that yonr younger brother, 
Orlando, hath a disposition to come in dis- 135 
guised against me to try a fall. To-morrow, 
sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that 
escapes me without some broken limb shall 
acquit him well. Your brother is but young 
and tender; and, for your love, I would bei40 
loath to foil him, as I must, for my own 
honour, if he come in; therefore, out of my 
love to you, I came hither to acquaint you 
withal, that either you might stay him from 
his intendment, or brook such disgrace well 145 
as he shall run into, in that it is a thing of 
his own search, and altogether against my 
will. 
01%. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, 
which thou shalt find I will most kindly iso 
requite. I had myself notice of my brother's 
purpose herein, and have by underhand means 
laboured to dissuade him from it, but he is 
resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles, it is the 
stubbornest young fellow of France ; full of 155 
ambition, an envious emulator of every man's 
good parts, a secret and villanous contriver 
against me his natural brother; therefore use 
thy discretion. I had as lief thou didst break 
his neck as his finger. And thou wert best 160 
look to't; for if thou dost him any slight 
disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace him- 



Act I. Sc. i.] I AS YOU LIKE IT. 53 

self on thee, he will practise against thee by 
poison, entrap thee by some treacherous 

165 device, and never leave thee till he hath ta'en 
thy life by some indirect means or other ; for, 
I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak 
it, there is not one so young and so villanous 
this day living. I speak but brotherly of 

170 him; but should I anatomize him to thee as 

he is, I must blush and weep, and thou must 

look pale and wonder. 

CM. I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If 

he come to-morrow, I'll give him his pay- 

175 ment. If ever he go alone again, I'll never 

wrestle for prize more. And so, God keep 

your worship ! 

Oli. Farewell, good Charles. [Exit Charles. 

Now will I stir this gamester. I hope I shall 

180 see an end of him ; for my soul, yet I know 
not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet 
he's gentle; never schooled, and yet learned; 
full of noble device ; of all sorts enchantingly 
beloved ; and indeed so much in the heart of 

185 the world, and especially of my own people, 
who best know him, that I am altogether 
misprised. But it shall not be so long; this 
wrestler shall clear all. Nothing remains but 
that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll 

190 go about. [Exit. 



54 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act I. Sc. ii. 



SCEKE II. 

Laivn before the Duke's palace. 
Enter Rosalind and Celia, 

Cel. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be 
merry. 

Bos. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am 
mistress of ; and would you yet I were mer- 
rier? Unless you could teach me to forget a 5 
banished father, you must not learn me how 
to remember any extraordinary pleasure. 

Cel. Herein I see thou lovest me not with the full 
weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy 
banished father, had banished thy uncle, the 10 
Duke my father, so thou hadst been still . 
with me, I could have taught my love to take 
thy father for mine. So wouldst thou, if the 
truth of thy love to me were so righteously 
tempered as mine is to thee. 15 

Bos. Well, I will forget the condition of my 
estate, to rejoice in yours. 

Cel. You know my father hath no child but I, 
nor none is like to have : and, truly, when he 
dies, thou shalt be his heir ; for what he hath 20 
taken away from thy father perforce, I will 
render thee again in affection. By mine 
honour, I will ; and when I break that oath, 



Act I. Sc. ii] AS YOU LIKE IT. 55 

let me turn monster. Therefore, my sweet 
25 Rose, my dear Eose, be merry. 
Eos. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise 
sports. Let me see; what think you of 
falling in love? 
Cel. Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport withal. 
30 Bat love no man in good earnest, nor no 
further in sport neither than with safety of a 
pure blush thou mayst in honour come off 
again. 
Eos. What shall be our sport, then? 
35 Cel. Let us sit and mock the good housewife 
Fortune from her wheel, that her gifts may 
henceforth be bestowed equally. 
Eos. I would we could do so ; for her benefits are 
mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind 
40 woman doth most mistake in her gifts to 
women. 
Cel. 'Tis true; for those that she makes fair she 
scarce makes honest, and those that she 
makes honest she makes very ill-favouredly. 
45 Eos. Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office I 
to Nature's. Fortune- reigns in gifts of the I 
world, not in the lineaments of Nature. 
Enter Touchstone. . 
Cel. No? When Nature hath made a fair creature, 
may she not by Fortune fall into the fire? 
so Though Nature hath given us wit to flout at 
Fortune, hath not Fortune sent in this fool 
to cut off the argument? 



56 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act I. So. ii. 



Bos. Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for 
Nature, when Fortune makes Nature's natu- 
ral the cutter-off: of Nature's wit. 55 

Cel. Peradyenture this is not Fortune's work 
neither, but Nature's; who, perceiving our 
natural wits too dull to reason of such 
goddesses, hath sent this natural for our 
whetstone; for always the dulness of the fool6o 
is the whetstone of the wits. How now, wit ! 
whither wander you? 

Touch. Mistress, you must" come away to your 
father. 

Cel. Were you made the messenger? 65 

Touch. No, by mine honour, but I was bid to 
come for you. 

Bos. Where learned you that oath, fool? 

Touch. Of a certain knight that swore by his 
honour they were good pancakes, and swore 70 
by his honour the mustard was naught. Now v' 
I'll stand to it, the pancakes were naught 
and the mustard was good, and yet was not 
the knight forsworn. 

Cel. How prove you that, in the great heap of 75 
your knowledge? 

Bos. Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom. 

Touch. Stand you both forth now. Stroke your 
chins, and swear by your beards that I am a 
knave. so 

Cel. - By our beards, if we had them, thou art. 

Touch. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were. 






ActI. Sc. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 57 

But if you swear by that that is not, you are 
not forsworn. No more was this knight, 
85 swearing by his honour, for he never had any ; 
or if he had, he had sworn it away before 
ever he saw those pancakes or that mus- 
tard. 
Cel. Prithee, who is't that thou meanest? 
90 Touch. One that old Frederick, your father, 
loves. 
Cel. My father's love is enough to honour him. 
Enough! speak no more of him. You'll be 
whipped for taxation one of these days. [ 
95 Touch. The more pity, that fools may not speak 
wisely what wise men do foolishly. 
Cel. By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the 
little wit that fools have was silenced, the 
little foolery that wise men have makes a great 
ioo show. Here comes Monsieur Le Beau. 
Bos. With his mouth full of news. 
Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed 

their young. 
Eos. Then shall we be news-crammed. 
105 Cel. All the better ; we shall be the more market- 
able. 

Enter Le Beau. 

Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau. What's the 
news? 
Le Beau. Pair princess, you have lost much good 
no sport. 

Cel. Sport! Of what colour? 



58 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act I. So. ii. 

Le Beau. Y/hat colour, madam? How shall I 

answer you? 
Eos. As wit and fortune will. 

Touch. Or as the Destinies decree. 115 

Gel. Well said. That was laid on with a trowel. 
Touch. Nay, if I keep not my rank, — 
Eos. Thou losest thy old smell. 
Le Beau. You amaze me, ladies. I would have I 

told you of good wrestling, which you have 120 

lost the sight of. 
Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling. 
Le Beau. I will tell you the beginning; and, if it 

please your ladyships, you may see the end ; 
- for the best is yet to do ; and here, where you 125 

are, they are coming to perform it. 
Gel. Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried. 
Le Beau. There comes an old man and his three 

sons, — 
Gel. I could match this beginning with an 0M130 

tale. 
Le Beau. Three proper young men, of excellent 

growth and presence. 
Eos. With bills on their necks, "Be it known 

unto all men by these presents." 135 

Le Beau. The eldest of the three wrestled with 

Charles, the Duke's wrestler; which Charles 

in a moment threw him, and broke three of 

his ribs, that there is little hope of life in 

him. So he served the second, and so thei40 

third. Yonder they lie; the poor old man, 



ACT I. So. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 59 

their father, making such pitiful dole ovei 

them that all the beholders take his part with 

weeping. 
145 Ros. Alas ! 

Touch, But what is the sport, monsieur, that the 

ladies have lost? 
Le Beau. Why, this that I speak of. 
Touch. Thus men may grow wiser every day. It 
150 is the first time that ever I heard breaking of 

ribs was sport for ladies. 
Gel. Or I, I promise thee. 
Ros. But is there any else longs to see this 

broken music in his sides? Is there yet 
155 another dotes upon rib-breaking? Shall we 

see this wrestling, cousin? 
Le Beau. You must, if you stay here ; for here is 

the place appointed for the wrestling, and 

they are ready to perform it. 
160 Gel. Yonder, sure, they are coming. Let us now 

stay and see it. 
Flourish. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, Orlando, 

Charles, and Attendants. 
Duke F. Come on. Since the youth will not be 

entreated, his own peril on his forwardness. 
Ros. Is yonder the man? 
165 Le Beau. Even he, madam. 

Gel. Alas, he is too young! Yet he looks suc- 
cessfully. 
Duke F. How now, daughter and cousin! Are 

you crept hither to see the wrestling? 



60 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act I. So. ii. 

Bos. Ay, my liege, so please yon give us leave, m 

DuJce F. You will take little delight in it, I can 
tell you, there is such odds in the man. In 
pity of the challenger's youth I would fain 
dissuade him, but he will not be entreated. 
Speak to him, ladies; see if you can movers 
him. 

Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau. 

Duke F. Do so; I'll not be by. 

Le Beau. Monsieur the challenger, the princess 
calls for you. iso 

Orl. I attend them with all respect and duty. 

Bos. Young man, have you challenged Charles 
the wrestler? 

Orl. JSTo, fair princess; he is the general chal- 
lenger. I come but in, as others do, to try 185 
with, him the strength of my youth. 

Gel. Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold 
for your years. You have seen cruel proof of 
this man's strength. If you saw yourself 
with your eyes, or knew yourself with your 190 
judgment, the fear of your adventure would 
counsel you to a more equal enterprise. We 
pray you, for your own sake, to embrace your 
own safety, and give over this attempt. 

Bos. Do, young sir; your reputation shall noti95 
therefore be misprised. We will make it our \ 
suit to the Duke that the wrestling might 
not go forward. 

Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard 



ActI. Sc. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 61 

200 thoughts, wherein I confess me much guilty, 

to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. 

But let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go 

with me to my trial ; wherein if I be foiled, 

there is but one shamed that was never 
205 gracious; if killed, but one dead that is 

willing to be so. I shall do my friends no 

wrong, for I have none to lament me; the 

world no injury, for in it I have nothing. 

Only in the world I fill up a place, which 
210 may be better supplied when I have made it 

empty. 
Eos. The little strength that I have, I would it 

were with you. 
Cel. And mine, to eke out hers. 
215 Eos. Fare you well ! Pray heaven I be deceived 

in you ! 
Cel. Your heart's desires be with you! 
Cha. Come, where is this young gallant that is so 

desirous to lie with his mother earth? 
220 Orl. Eeacly, sir ; but his will hath in it a more 

modest working. 
Duke F. You shall try but one fall. 
Cha. No, I warrant your Grace, you shall not 

entreat him to a second, that have so 
225 mightily persuaded him from a first. 

Orl. You mean to mock me after ; you should not 

have mocked me before. But come your 

ways. 
Eos. Now Hercules be thy speed, young man! 



62 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act I. So. ii. 

Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong 230 

fellow by the leg. [They wrestle. 

Bos. excellent young man ! 
Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye I can tell 

who should down. 

[Shout. Charles is thrown. 
Duke F. No more, no more. 235 

Orl. Yes, I beseech your Grace. I am not yet 

well breathed. 
Duke F. How dost thou, Charles? 
Le Beau. He cannot speak, my lord. 
Duke F. Bear him away. "What is thy name, 240 

young man? 
Orl. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir 

Eoland de Boys. 
Duke F. I would thou hadst been son to some 
man else. 

The world esteemed thy father honourable, 245 

But I did find him still mine enemy. 

Thou shouldst have better pleased me with 
this deed, 

Hadst thou descended from another house. 

But fare thee well ; thou art a gallant youth. 

I would thou hadst told me of another father. 250 
[Exeunt Duke Fred., train, and Le Beau, 
Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this? 
Orl. I am more proud to be Sir Eoland's son, 

His youngest son, — and would not change 
that calling, 

To be adopted heir to Frederick. 



Act I. Sc. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT 63 

255 Bos. My father loved Sir Roland as his soul, 
And all the world was of my father's mind. 
Had I before known this young man his son, 
I should have given him tears unto entreaties, 
Ere he should thus have ventured. 
Gel. Gentle cousin, 

260 Let us go thank him and encourage him. 
My father's rough and envious disposition 
Sticks me at heart. Sir, you have well 

deserved. 
If you do keep your promises in love 
But justly, as you have exceeded all promise, 
265 Your mistress shall be happy. 

Bos. Gentleman, 

[ Giving him a chain from her neck. 
Wear this for me, one out of suits with 

fortune, 
That could give more, but that her hand 

lacks means. 
Shall we go, coz? 
Gel. Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman. 

Orl. Can I not say, I thank you? My better 
parts 

270 Are all thrown down, and that which here 
stands up 
Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. 
Bos. He calls us back. My pride fell with my 
fortunes ; 
I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, 
sir? 



64 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act I. Sc. ii. 

Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown 
More than your enemies. 
Gel. Will you go, coz?275 

Eos. Have with you. Fare you well. 

[Exeunt Rosalind and Gelia. 
Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon my 
tongue? 
I cannot speak to her, yet she urged confer- 
ence. 
poor Orlando, thou art overthrown! 
Or Charles or something weaker masters thee. 280 
Re-enter Le Beau. 
Le Beau. G-ood sir, I do in friendship counsel 
you 
To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved 
High commendation, true applause, and 

love, 
Yet such is now the Duke's condition, 
That he misconstrues all that you have done. 285 
The Duke is humorous : — what he is, indeed, 
More suits you to conceive than I to speak of. 
Orl. I thank you, sir: and, pray you, tell me 
this: 
Which of the two was daughter of the Duke, ■ 
That here was at the wrestling? 2 

Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by 
manners ; 
But yet, indeed, the taller is his daughter. 
The other is daughter to the banished Duke, 
And here detained by her usurping uncle, 



Act I. Sc. iii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 65 

295 To keep his daughter company ; whose loves 
Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters. 
But I can tell you that of late this Duke 
Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle 

niece, 
Grounded upon no other argument 
300 But that the people praise her for her virtues, 
And pity her for her good father's sake; 
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady 
Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you 

well. 
Hereafter, in a better world than this, 
306 I shall desire more love and knowledge of 
you. 
Orl. I rest much bounden to you : fare you well. 

[Exit Le Beau. 
Thus must I from the smoke into the 

smother, 
From tyrant Duke unto a tyrant brother. 
But heavenly Eosalind ! [Exit. 



Scej^e III. 

A room in the palace. 
Enter Celia and Rosalind. 

Gel, Why, cousin! why, Eosalind! Cupid have 

mercy ! not a word? 
Rob. Not one to throw at a dog. 



66 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act I. So. iii. 



Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast 
away upon curs ; throw some of them at me. 5 
Come, lame me with reasons. 

Eos. Then there were two cousins laid up, when 
the one should be lamed with reasons and the 
other mad without any. 

Cel. But is all this for your father? 10 

Eos. No, some of it is for my child's father. 0, 
how full of briers is this working-day world! 

Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee 
in holiday foolery. If we walk not in the 
trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch 15 
them. 

Eos. I could shake them off my coat. These burs 
are in my heart. 

Cel. Hem them away. 

Eos. I would try, if I could cry hem and have 20 
him. 

Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. 

Eos. 0, they take the part of a better wrestler 
than myself! 

Cel. 0, a good wish upon you! you will try in 25 
time, in despite of a fall. But 3 turning these 
jests out of service, let us talk in good 
earnest. Is it possible, on such a sudden, 
you should fall into so strong a liking with 
old Sir Roland's youngest son? 30 

Eos. The Duke my father loved his father dearly. 

Cel. Doth it therefore ensue that you should love 
his son dearly? By this kind of chase, I 



1 



Act I. Sc. iii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 67 

should hate him, for my father hated his 
35 father dearly ; yet I hate not Orlando. 
Ros. No, faith, hate him not, for my sake. 
Gel. Why should I not? Doth he not deserve well? 
Ros. Let me love him for that, and do you love 
him because I do. Look, here comes the 
40 Duke. 

Gel. With his eyes full of anger. 

Enter Duke Frederick, with Lords. 
Duke F. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest 
haste, 
And get you from our court. 
Ros. Me, uncle? 

Duke F. You, cousin. 

Within these ten days if that thou be'st found 
45 So near our public court as twenty miles, 
Thou diest for it. 
Ros. I do beseech your Grace, 

Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with 

me. 
If with myself I hold intelligence, 
Or have acquaintance with mine own desires; 
50 If that I do not dream, or be not frantic, — 
As I do trust I am not — then, dear uncle, 
Never so much as in a thought unborn 
Did I offend your Highness. 
Duke F. Thus do all traitors. 

If their purgation did consist in words, 
55 They are as innocent as grace itself. 

Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not. 






68 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act I. Sc. iii. 

Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor. 
Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. 

Duke F. Thou art thy father's daughter; there's 
enough. 

Ros. So was I when your Highness took his duke- 60 
dom. 
So was I when your Highness banished him. 
Treason is not inherited, my lord ; 
Or, if we did derive it from our friends, 
What's that to me? My father was no traitor. 
Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much 65 
To think my poverty is treacherous. 

Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak. 

Duke F. Ay, Celia; we stayed her for your 
sake, 
Else had she with her father ranged along. 

Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay ; 70 
It was your pleasure and your own remorse. 
I was too young that time to value her. 
But now I know her. If she be a traitor, 
Why so am I. We still have slept together, 
Eose at an instant, learned, played, eat 75 

together ; 
And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, 
Still we went coupled and inseparable. 

Duke F. She is too subtle for thee ; and her 
smoothness, 
Her very silence and her patience 
Speak to the people, and they pity her. so 

Thou art a fool. She robs thee of thy name; 



Act! Sc.iii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 69 

« 
And thou wilt show more bright and seem 

more virtuous 

When she is gone. Then open not thy lips. 

Firm and irrevocable is my doom 

85 Which I have passed upon her; she is 

banished. 

Gel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my 

liege; 

I cannot live out of her company. 

Duke F. You are a fool. You, niece, provide 

yourself. 

If you outstay the time, upon mine honour, 

90 And in the greatness of my word, you die. 

[Exeunt Duke Frederick and Lords. 

Gel. my poor Eosalind, whither wilt thou go? 

Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee 

mine. 

I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than 

I am. 

Eos. I have more cause. 

Gel. Thou hast not, cousin; 

95 Prithee, be cheerful. Know'st thou not, the 

Duke 

Hath banished me, his daughter? 

Eos. That he hath not. 

Gel. No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love 

Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one. 

Shall we be sundered? shall we part, sweet 

girl? 

loo No : let my father seek another heir. 



70 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act I. Sc. iii. 

Therefore devise with me how we may fly, 
Whither to go and what to bear with us ; 
And do not seek to take your change upon 

you, 
To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me 

out; 
For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, 105 
Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. 

Ros. Why, whither shall we go? 

Gel. To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden. 

Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us, 

Maids as we are, to travel forth so far! 110 

Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. 

Gel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, 

And with a kind of umber smirch my face. 
The like do you. So shall we pass along 
And never stir assailants. 

Ros. Were it not better, 115 

Because that I am more than common tall, 
That I did suit me all points like a man? 
A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh,' 
A boar-spear in my hand ; and — in my heart 
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there 120 

will— 
We'll have a swashing and a martial outside, 
As many other mannish cowards have 
That do outface it with their semblances. 

Gel. What shall I call thee when thou art a man? 

Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own 125 
page, 









Act! Sc. iii.] AS YOU LIKE IT 71 

And therefore look you call me Ganymede. 

But what will you be called? 
Gel. Something that hath a reference to my state : 

No longer Celia, but Aliena. 
180 EoSo But, cousin, what if we assayed to steal 

The clownish fool out of your father's court? 

Would he not be a comfort to our travel? 
Gel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me. 

Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away, 
135 And get our jewels and our wealth together, 

Devise the fittest time and safest way 

To hide us from pursuit that will be made 

After my flight. Now go we in content 

To liberty and not to banishment. 

[Exeunt. 



ACT SECOND. 
Scene I. 

TJie Forest of Arden. 

Enter Duke senior, Amiens, and tioo or three 
Lords, like foresters. 

Duke S. Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, 
, Hath not old custom made this life more 
sweet 
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these 

woods 
More free from peril than the envious court? 
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, 5 

The seasons' difference, as the icy fang 
■"And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, 
Which, when it bites and blows upon my 

body, 
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say 
"This is no flattery: these are counsellors 10 
That feelingly persuade me what I am." 
/*""• Sweet are the uses of adversity; 

Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, 

Wears yet a precious jewel in his head: 

And this our life, exempt from public haunt, 15 



Act II. Sc. i.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 73 

Finds tongues in trees, books in the running 

brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. 
Ami. I would not change it. Happy is your 
Grace, 
That can translate the stubbornness of for- 
tune 
20 Into so quiet and so sweet a style. 
Duke 8. Come, shall we go and kill us venison? 
And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools, 
Being native burghers of this desert city, 
Should in their own confines with forked 
heads 
35 Have their round haunches gored. 
First Lord. Indeed, my lord, 

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that ; 
And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp 
Than doth your brother that hath banished 

you. 
To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself 
30 Did steal behind him as he lay along 

Under an oak whose antique root peeps out 
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood : 
To the which place a poor sequestered stag, 
That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, 
35 Did come to languish ; and indeed, my lord, 
The wretched animal heaved forth such 

groans, 
That their discharge did stretch his leathern 
coat 






74 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act II. Sc. i 



Almost to bursting, and the big round tears 
Coursed one another down his innocent nose 
In piteous chase ; and thus the hairy fool, 40 
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, 
Stood on the extremest verge of the swift 

brook, 
Augmenting it with tears. 
Duke S. But what said Jaques? 

Did he not moralize this spectacle? 
First Lord. 0, yes, into a thousand similes. 45 

First, for his weeping into the needless 

stream : 
"Poor deer," quoth he, "thou makest a 

testament 
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more 
To that which had too much." Then, being 

there alone, 
Left and abandoned of his velvet friends, 50 
" "Pis right," quoth he; "thus misery doth 

part 
The flux of company. " Anon a careless herd, 
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him 
And never stays to greet him. "Ay," quoth 

Jaques, 
"Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens. 55 

'Tis just the fashion. Wherefore do you look 
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?" 
Thus most invectively he pierceth through 
The body of the country, city, court, 
Yea, and of this our life; swearing that we 60 






Act II. Sc. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 75 

Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's 

worse, 
To fright the animals and to kill them up 
In their assigned and native dwelling-place. 
Duke S. And did you leave him in this contem- 
plation? 
65 Sec. Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and com- 
menting 
Upon the sobbing deer. 
Duke 8. Show me the place. 

I love to cope him in these sullen fits, 
For then he's full of matter. 
First Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. 

[Exeunt. 



SCEtfE II. 

A room in the palace. 
Enter Duke Frederick, ivith Lords. 

Duke F. Can it be possible that no man saw 
them? 
It cannot be. Some villains of my court 
Are of consent and sufferance in this. 
First Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her. 
5 The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, 
Saw her a-bed, and in the morning early 
They found the bed untreasured of their 
mistress. 



76 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act II. Sc. iii. 

Sec. Lord. My lord, the roynish clown, at whom 
so oft 
Your Grace was wont to laugh, is also 

missing. 
Hisperia, the princess' gentlewoman, 10 

Confesses that she secretly o'erheard 
Your daughter and her cousin much com- 
mend 
The parts and graces of the wrestler 
That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles ; 
And she believes, wherever they are gone, is 
That youth is surely in their company. 
Dulse F. Send to his brother. Fetch that gallant 
hither. 
If he be absent, bring his brother to me ; 
I'll make him find him. Do this suddenly, 
And let not search and inquisition quail 20 

To bring again these foolish runaways. 

[Exeunt. 



Scene III. 

Before Oliver's house. 
Enter Orlando and Adam, meeting. 

Orl. Who's there? 

Adam. What, my young master? my gentle 
master ! 
my sweet master! you memory 



Act II. Sc. iii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 77 

Of old Sir Eoland ! Why, what make you 
here? 
5 "Why are you virtuous? Why do people love 
you? 
Aud wherefore are you gentle, strong, and val- 
iant? 
Why would you be so fond to overcome 
The bonny priser of the humorous Duke? 
Your praise is come too swiftly home before 
you. 
10 Know you not, master, to some kind of men 
Their graces serve them but as enemies? 
No more do yours. Your virtues, gentle 

master, 
Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. 
0, what a world is this, when what is comely 
is Envenoms him that bears it ! 
Orl. Why, what's the matter? 
Adam. unhappy youth! 

Come not within these doors ! Within this 

roof 
The enemy of all your graces lives. 
Your brother — no, no brother; yet the son — 
20 Yet not the son, I will not call him son, 
Of him I was about to call his father, — 
Hath heard your praises, and this night he 

means 
To burn the lodging where you use to lie 
And you within it. If he fail of that, 
25 He will have other means to cut you off. 









78 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act II. So. iii. 

I overheard him and his practices. 
This is no place ; this house is but a butchery. 
Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it. 
Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me 

go? 
Adam. No matter whither, so you come not 30 

here. 
Orl. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my 

food? 
Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce 
A thievish living on the common road? 
This I must do, or know not what to do; 
Yet this I will not do, do how I can; 35 

I rather will subject me to the malice 
Of a diverted blood and bloody brother. 
Adam. But do not so. I have five hundred 

crowns, 
The thrifty hire I saved under your father, 
Which I did store to be my foster-nurse 40 

When service should in my old limbs lie lame, 
And unregarded age in corners thrown, 
j- Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed 
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, 
Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold. 45 
All this I give you. Let me be your servant. 
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty ; 
For in my youth I never did apply 
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, 
Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo 50 
The means of weakness and debility; 



Act II. Sc. iii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 79 



j Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, 
I Frosty, but kindly. Let me go with you ; 
I'll do the service of a younger man 
55 In all your business and necessities. 

Orl. good old man, how well in thee appears 
The constant service of the antique world, 
When service sweat for duty, not for meed ! 
Thou art not for the fashion of these times, 
60 Where none will sweat but for promotion, 
And having that do choke their service up 
Even with the having. It is not so with thee ; 
But, poor old man, thou prunest a rotten 

tree, 
That cannot so much as a blossom yield 
65 In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry. 

But come thy ways; we'll go along together, 
And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, 
We'll light upon some settled low content. 
Adeem. Master, go on, and I will follow thee, 
to To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty. 

From seventeen years till now almost four- 
score 
Here lived I, but now live here no more. 
At seventeen years many their fortunes seek, 
But at fourscore it is too late a week ; 
75 Yet fortune cannot recompense me better 

Than to die well and not my master's debtor. 

[Exeunt. 






80 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act II. Sc. iv. 



. Scene IV. 

The Forest of Arden. 

Enter Rosalind for Ganymede, Celia for Aliena, 
and Touchstone. 

Eos. Jupiter, how weary are my spirits ! 
Touch. I care not for my spirits, if my legs were 

not weary. 
Bos. I could find in my heart to disgrace my 

man's apparel and to cry like a woman; but 5 

I must comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet 

and hose ought to show itself courageous to 

petticoat; therefore, courage, good Aliena. 
Cel. I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no 

further. 10 

Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with you 

than bear you. Yet I should bear no cross 

if I did bear you, for I think you have no 

money in your purse. 
Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden. 15 

Touch. Ay, now am I in Arden, the more fool I. 

When I was at home, I was in a better place ; 

but travellers must be content. 
Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone. 

Miter Corin and Silvius. 

Look you, who comes here ; a young man and 20 

an old in solemn talk. 



Act II. Sc. iv.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 81 

Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still. 
J Sil. Oorin, that thou knew'st how I do love 
her! 
Cor. I partly guess; for I have loved ere now. , 
25 Sil. No, Oorin, being old, thou canst not guess, 
Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover 
As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow. 
But if thy love were ever like to mine, — 
As sure I think did never man love so — 
30 How many actions most ridiculous 

Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy? 
Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. 
Sil. 0, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily! 
If thou remember'st not the slightest folly 
85 That ever love did make thee run into, 
Thou hast not loved ; 
Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, 
Wearing thy hearer in thy mistress' praise 
Thou hast not loved ; 
40 Or if thou hast not broke from company 
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, 
Thou hast not loved. 

Phebe, Phebe, Phebe! [Exit. 

Eos. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy 

wound, 

45 I have by hard adventure found mine own. 

Touch. And I mine. I remember, when I was in 

love I broke my sword upon a stone and bid 

him take that for coming a-night to Jane 

Smile; and I remember the kissing of her 



82 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act II. Sc. iv. 

batlet and the cow's dugs that her pretty 50 
chopt hands had milked; and I remember 
the wooing of a peascod instead of her ; from 
whom I took two cods and, giving her them 
again, said with weeping tears, "Wear these 
for my sake." We that are true lovers run 55 
into strange capers ; but as all is mortal in 
nature, so is all nature in love mortal in 
folly. 

Eos. Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of. 

Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own 60 
wit till I break my shins against it. 

Eos. Jove, Jove ! this shepherd's passion 
Is much upon my fashion. 

Touch. And mine ; but it grows something stale 
with me. 65 

Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond man 
If he for gold will give us any food. 
I faint almost to death. 

Touch. Holla, you clown ! 

Eos. Peace, fool ; he's not thy kinsman. 

Cor. Who calls? 

Touch. Your betters, sir. 

Cor. Else are they very wretched. 7* 

Eos. Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend. 

Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. 

Eos. I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold 
Can in this desert place buy entertainment, 
• Bring us where we may rest ourselves and 75 
feed. 



Act II. Sc. iv.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 83 

Here's a young maid with travel much 

oppressed 
And faints for succour. 
Cor. Fair sir, I pity her, 

And wish, for her sake more than for mine 

own, 
My fortunes were more able to relieve her ; 
80 But I am shepherd to another man, 

And do not shear the fleeces that I graze. 
My master is of churlish disposition, 
And little recks to find the way to heaven 

By doing deeds of hospitality^ 

Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of 

feed 
Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now, 
By reason of his absence, there is nothing 
That you will feed on; but what is, come 

see, 
And in my voice most welcome shall you be. 
90 Bos. What is he that shall buy his flock and 
pasture? 
Cor. That young swain that you saw here but 
erewhile, 
That little cares for buying any thing. 
Eos. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, 

Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock, 
95 And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. 

Cel. And we will mend thy wages. I like this 
place, 
And willingly could waste my time in it. 



84 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act II, Sc. v. 

Cor. Assuredly the thing is to be sold. 

Go with me. If you like upon report 
The soil, the profit, and this kind of life, 100 
I will your very faithful feeder be, 
And buy it with your gold right suddenly. 

[Exeunt. 



SCEISTE V. 

The forest. 
Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others. 

SOISTG. 

Ami. Under the greenwood tree 
Who loves to lie with me, 
And turn his merry note 
Unto the sweet bird's throat, 
Come hither, come hither, come hither ! 5 
Here shall he see 
No enemy 
But winter and rough weather. 

Jaq. More, more, I prithee, more. 

Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monsieur 10 
Jaques. 

Jaq. I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can | 
suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel 
sucks eggs. More, I prithee, more. 



Act II. Sc. v.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 85 

15 Ami. My voice is ragged. I know I cannot 
please you. 
Jaq. I do not desire you to please me; I do 
desire you to sing. Come, more; another 
stanzo. Call you 'em stanzos? 
20 Ami. What you will, Monsieur Jaques. 

Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they owe 

me nothing. Will you sing? 

Ami. More at your request than to please myself. 

Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll 

25 thank you; but that they call compliment is 

like the encounter of two dog-apes ; and when 

a man thanks me heartily, methinks I have 

given him a penny and he renders me the 

beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that 

so will not, hold your tongues. 

Ami. Well, I'll end the song. Sirs, cover the 
while; the Duke will drink under this tree. 
He hath been all this day to look you. 
Jaq. And I have been all this day to avoid him. 
35 He is too disputable for my company. I 

think of as many matters as he ; but I give 
heaven thanks, and make no boast of them. 
Come, warble, come. 

SONG. 

[All together here.] 
Who doth ambition shun, 
40 And loves to live i' the sun, 

Seeking the food he eats, 



86 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act II. Sc. v. 

And pleased with what he gets, 
Come hither, come hither, come hither ! 

Here shall he see 

No enemy 45 

But winter and rough weather. 

Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note, that I 

made yesterday in despite of my invention. 
Ami. And I'll sing it. 



Jaq. Thus it goes: — 58 



If it do come to pass 
That any' man turn ass, 
Leaving his wealth and ease 
A stubborn will to please, 
Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame! 55 

Here shall he see 
Gross fools as he, 
And if he will come to me. 

Ami. What's that "ducdame"? 

Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a60 
circle. I'll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, 
I'll rail against all the first-born of Egypt. 

Ami. And I'll go seek the Duke; his banquet is 
prepared. [Exeunt severally. 



Act II. Sc. vi.l AS YOU LIKE IT. 87 



SCEtfE VI. 

The forest. 
Enter Orlando and Adam. 

Adam. Dear master, I can go no further. 0, I 
die for food ! Here lie I down, and measure 
out my grave. Farewell, kind master. 
Orl. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in 

6 thee? Live a little ; comfort a little ; cheer 

thyself a little. If this uncouth forest yield 
any thing savage, I will either be food for it 
or bring it for food to thee. Thy conceit is 
nearer death than thy powers. For my sake 

K> be comfortable; hold death awhile at the 

arm's end. I will here be with thee pres- 
ently; and if I bring thee not something to 
eat, I will give thee leave to die; but if thou 
diest before I come, thou art a mocker of my 

% labour. Well said ! thou lookest cheerly, and 
I'll be with thee quickly. Yet thou liest in 
the bleak air. Come, I will bear thee to 
some shelter ; and thou shalt not die for lack 
of a dinner, if there live any thing in this 

20 desert. Cheerly, good Adam! [Exeunt. 



88 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act II. Sc. vii. 



Scene VII. 

The forest. 

A table set out. Enter Duke senior, Amiens, and 
.Lords, like outlaws. 

Duke S. I think he be transformed into a beast, 

For I can no where find him like a man. 
First Lord. My lord, he is but even now gone 
hence. 
Here was he merry, hearing of a song. 
Duke 8. If he, compact of jars, grow musical, 5 
We shall have shortly discord in the spheres. 
Go, seek him; tell him I would speak with 
him. 

Enter Jaques. 
First Lord. He saves my labour by his own 

approach. 
Duke S. Why, how now, monsieur ! what a life is 
this, 
That your poor friends must woo your com- io 

pany? 
What, you look merrily ! 
Jaq. A fool, a fool ! I met a fool i' the forest, 
A motley fool. A miserable world! 
As I do live by food, I met a fool ; 
Who laid him down and basked him in the 15 
sun, 



Act II. Sc. vii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 89 

And railed on Lady Fortune in good terms, 
In good set terms, and yet a motley fool. 
"Good morrow, fool," quoth I. "No, sir," 

quoth he, 
"Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me 
fortune." 
so And then he drew a dial from his poke, 
And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, 
Says very wisely, "It is ten o'clock. 
Thus we may see," quoth he, "how the world 

wags. 
'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine ; 
25 And after one hour more 'twill be eleven; 

And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, 
And then, from hour to hour, we rot and 

rot; 
And thereby hangs a tale. " When I did hear 
The motley fool thus moral on the time, 
30 My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, 

That fools should be so deep-contemplative; 
And I did laugh sans intermission 
An hour by his dial. noble fool ! 
A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear. 
zhDuke S. What fool is this? 
Jaq. worthy fool! One that hath been a 
courtier, 
And says, if ladies be but young and fair, 
They have the gift to know it; and in his 

brain, 
Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit 



20 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act II. Sc. vii. 






After a voyage, he hath strange places 40 

crammed 
With observation, the which he vents 
In mangled forms. that I were a fool ! 
I am ambitious for a motley coat. 
Duke S. Thon shalt have one. 
Jaq. It is my only suit ; — 

Provided that you weed your better judg-45 

ments 
Of all opinion that grows rank in them 
That I am wise. I must have liberty t 
Withal, as large a charter as the wind, 
To blow on whom I please; for so fools have; 
And they that are most galled with my folly, 50 
They most must laugh. And why, sir, must 

they so? 
The "why" is plain as way to parish church. 
He that a fool doth very wisely hit 
Doth very foolishly, although he smart, 
[Not to] seem senseless of the bob ; if not, 55 
The wise man's folly is anatomized 
Even by the squandering glances of the fool. 
Invest me in my motley. Give me leave 
To speak my mind, and I will through and 

through 
Cleanse the foul body of the infected world, 60 
If they will patiently receive my medicine. 
DuTce 8. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou 

wouldst do. 
Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do but good? 






Act II. Sc. vii] AS YOU LIKE IT. 91 

Duke S. Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding 
sin. 
For thou thyself hast been a libertine, 
As sensual as the brutish sting itself ; 
And all the embossed sores and headed evils, 
That thou with license of free foot has 

caught, 
Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world. 
Jaq. Why, who cries out on pride, 

That can therein tax any private party? 
Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea, 
Till that the wearer's very means do ebb? 
What woman in the city do I name, 
When that I say the city-woman bears : 
The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders? 
Who can come in and say that I mean her, 
When such a one as she such is her neigh- 
bour? 
Or what is he of basest function, ; 
That says his bravery is not on my cost, 
Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits 
His folly to the mettle of my speech? 
There then ; how then? what then? Let me 

see wherein 
My tongue hath wronged him. If it do him 

right, 
Then he hath wronged himself. If he be 

free, 
Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies, 
Unclaimed of any man. But who comes here? 






92 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act II. Sc. vii 

Enter Orlando, with his sword drawn. 
Orl. Forbear, and eat no more. 
Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet. 

Orl. 'Not slialt not, till necessity be served. 
Jaq. Of what kind should this cock come of? 90 
Duke S. Art thou thus boldened, man, by thy dis- 
tress? 
Or else a rude despiser of good manners, 
That in civility thou seem'st so empty? 
Orl. You touched my vein at first; the thorny 
point 
Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show 95 
Of smooth civility. Yet am I inland bred 
And know some nurture. But forbear, I 

say. 
He dies that touches any of this fruit 
Till I and my affairs are answered. 
Jaq, An you will not be answered with reason, 100 

I mast die 
Duke 8. What would you have? Your gentleness 
shall force, 
More than your force move us to gentleness. 
Orl. I almost die for food ; and let me have it. 
Duke S. Sit down and feed, and welcome to our ios 

table. 
Orl. Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray 
you. 
I thought that all things had been savage 

here, 
And therefore put I on the countenance 



Act II. Sc. vii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 93 

Of stern commandment. But whate'er you 
are 
no That in this desert inaccessible, 

Under the shade of melancholy boughs, 
— Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; 
If ever you have looked on better days, 
If ever been where bells have knolled to 
church, 
115 If ever sat at any good man's feast, 
If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear 
'And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, 
Let gentleness my strong enforcement be ; 
In the which hope I blush, and hide my 
sword. 
120 Duke 8. True is it that we have seen better days, 
And have with holy bell been knolled to 

church, 
And sat at good men's feasts, and wiped our 

eyes 
Of drops that sacred pity hath engendered ; 
And therefore sit you down in gentleness 
125 And take upon command what help we have 
That to your wanting may be ministered. 
Orl. Then but forbear your food a little while, 
Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn 
And give it food. There is an old poor man, 
130 Who after me hath many a weary step 

Limped in pure love. Till he be first sufficed, 
Oppressed with two weak evils, age and 
hunger, 



94 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act II. Sc. vii. 

I will not touch a bit. 
Duke S. Go find him out, 

And we will nothing waste till you return. 
Orl. I thank ye ; and be blest for your good com- 135 

fort! [Exit 

Duke S. Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy. 
This wide and universal theatre 
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene 
Wherein we play in. 
Jaq. All the world 's a stage, 

And all the men and women merely players. I4f 
They have their exits and their entrances, 
And one man in his time plays many parts, 
His acts being seven ages. At first the 

infant, 
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. 
Then the whining school -boy, with his satchel 145 
And shining morning face, creeping like snail 
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, 
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad 
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a 

soldier, 
Eull of strange oaths, and bearded like the 150 

pard, 
Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in 

quarrel, 
Seeking the bubble reputation 
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the 

justice, 
In fair round belly with good capon lined, 



ACT II. So. vii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 95 

15& With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, 
Full of wise saws and modern instances ; 
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts 
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, 
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, 
lflo His youthful hose, well saved, a world too 
wide 
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly 

voice, 
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes 
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, 
That ends this strange eventful history, 
165 Is second childishness and mere oblivion, 

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every 
thing. 

Re-enter Orlando, with Adam. 
Duke S. Welcome. Set down your venerable 
burthen, 
And let him feed. 
Orl. I thank you most for him. 
Adam. So had you need : 

to I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. 
Duke S. Welcome; fall to. I will not trouble 
you 
As yet, to question you about your fortunes. 
Give us some music ; and, good cousin, sing. 

SONG. 

i Ami. Blow, blow, thou winter wind, 
75 Thou art not so unkind 



96 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act II. Sc. vii. 

As man's ingratitude; 
Thy tooth is not so keen, 
Because thou art not seen, 
Although thy breath be rude. 
Heigh-ho ! sing, heigh-ho ! unto the green holly, iso 
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly. 
Then, heigh-ho, the holly ! 
This life is most jolly. 

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, 

That dost not bite so nigh 185 

As benefits forgot ; 
Though thou the waters warp, 
Thy sting is not so sharp 

As friend remembered not. 
Heigh-ho! sing, etc. 

Duke S. If that you were the good Sir Eoland's 

son, 
As you have whispered faithfully you were, 
And as mine eye doth his effigies witness 
Most truly limned and living in your face, 
Be truly welcome hither. I am the Duke 195 
That loved your father. The residue of your 

fortune, 
Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man, 
Thou art right welcome as thy master is. 
Support him by the arm. Give me your 

hand, 
And let me all your fortunes understand. 300 \ 

[Exeunt. 



ACT THIRD. 

SCEKE I. 

A room i?i the palace. 
Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, and Oliver. 

DicJce F. Not see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot 
be: 
Bnt were I not the better part made mercy, 
I should not seek an absent argument 
Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it. 
5 Find out thy brother, wheresoe'er he is; 
\ Seek him with candle; bring him dead or 
living 
Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no 

more 
To seek a living in our territory. 
Thy lands and all things that thou dost call 
thine 
10 Worth seizure do we seize into our hands, 

Till thou canst quit thee by thy brother's 

mouth 
Of what we think against thee. 
01%. that your Highness knew my heart in 
this! 
I never loved my brother in my life. 

97 



98 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. So. ii. 

Duke F. More villain thou. Well, push him outis 
of doors; 
And let my officers of such a nature 
Make an extent upon his house and lands. 
Do this expediently and turn him going. 

[Exeunt. 



Scene II. 

The forest. 
Enter Orlando, with a paper. 

Orl. Hang there, my verse, in witness of my 
love; 
And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, 
survey 
"With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere 
above, 
Thy huntress' name that my full life doth 
sway. 
Eosalind! these trees shall be my books, 5 
And in their barks my thoughts I'll char- 
acter ; 
That every eye which in this forest looks 

Shall see thy virtue witnessed every where. 
Kun : run, Orlando; carve on every tree 
The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she. io 

[Exit. 



Act III. Sc. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 99 

Enter Cor in and Touchstone. 
CoTo And how like you this shepherd's life, Master 

Touchstone? 
Touch. Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is 
a good life ; but in respect that it is a shep- 

15 herd's life, it is naught. In respect that it 
is solitary, I like it very well ; but in respect 
that it is private, it is a very vile life. Now, 
in respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth me 
well ; but in respect it is not in the court, it 

so is tedious. As it is a spare life, look you, 
it fits my humour well ; but as there is no 
more plenty in it, it goes much against my 
stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, 
shepherd? 

25 Cor, No more but that I know the more one 
sickens the worse at ease he is ; and that he 
that wants money, means, and content is 
without three good friends; that the prop- 
erty of rain is to wet and fire to burn ; that 

30 good pasture makes fat sheep, and that a 
great cause of the night is lack of the sun; 
that he that hath learned no wit by nature 
nor art may complain of good breeding or 
comes of a very dull kindred. 

35 Touch. Such a one is a natural philosopher. 
Wast ever in court, shepherd? 
Cor. No, truly. 

Touch. Then thou art damned. 
Cor. Nay, I hope 

L.ofC 



100 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. Sc. ii. 

Touch. Truly, thou art damned, like an ill-roasted 40 
egg all on one side. 

Cor. For not being at court? Your reason. 

Touch. Why, if thou never wast at court, thou 
never sawest good- manners; if thou never 
sawest good manners, then thy manners must 45 
be wicked; and wickedness is sin, and sin is 
damnation. Thou art in a parlous state, / 
shepherd. 

Cor. Not a whit, Touchstone. Those that are 
good manners at the court are as ridiculous 50 
in the country as the behaviour of the 
country is most mockable at the court. You 
told me you salute not at the court but you 
kiss your hands. That courtesy would be 
uncleanly, if courtiers were shepherds. 55 

Touch. Instance, briefly; come, instance. 

Cor. Why, we are still handling our ewes, and 
their fells, you know, are greasy. 

Touch. Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? 
And is not the grease of a mutton as whole- 60 
some as the sweat of a man? Shallow, shal- 
low. A better instance, I say ; come. 

Cor. Besides, our hands are hard. 

Touch. Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shal- 
low again. A more sounder instance, come. 65 

Cor. And they are often tarred over with the 
surgery of our sheep; and would you have us 
kiss tar? The courtier's hands are perfumed 
with civet. 



o 



Act III. So. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 101 

70 Touch. Most shallow man! thou worm's-meat, 
in respect of a good piece of flesh indeed! 
Learn of the wise, and perpend. Civet is of 
a baser birth than tar, the very uncleanly 
flux of a cat. Mend the instance, shepherd. 

75 Cor. You have too courtly a wit for me. I'll 
rest. 
Touch. Wilt thou rest damned? God help thee, 
shallow man! God make incision in thee? 
Thou art raw. 

80 Cor. Sir, I am a true labourer. I earn that I eat, 
get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no 
man's happiness, glad of other men's good, 
content with my harm, and the greatest of 
my pride is to see my ewes graze and my 

85 lambs suck. Here comes young Master 
Ganymede, my new mistress's brother. 

Enter Rosalind, with a paper, reading. 

Ros. From the east to western Ind, 
No jewel is like Rosalind. 
Her worth, being mounted on the wind, 
qq Through all the world bears Eosalind. 

All the pictures fairest lined 
Are but black to Rosalind. 
Let no face be kept in mind 
But the fair of Rosalind. 

95 Touch. I'll rhyme you so eight years together, 
dinners and suppers and sleeping-hours 



102 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. Sc. ii. 

excepted. It is the right butter-women's 

rank to market. 
Bos. Out, fool! 
Touch. For a taste : — id 

If a hart do lack a hind, 

Let him seek out Eosalind. 

If the cat will after kind, 

So be sure will Eosalind. 

Winter garments must be lined, 105 

So must slender Rosalind. 

They that reap must sheaf and bind, 

Then to cart with Eosalind. 

Sweetest nut hath sourest rind, 

Such a nut is Eosalind. 110 

He that sweetest rose will find, 

Must find loye's prick and Eosalind. 

This is the very false gallop of verses. Why 

do you infect yourself with them? 
Bos. Peace, you dull fool ! I found them on a 115 

tree. 
Touch. Truly, the tree yields bad fruit. 
Bos. I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff 

it with a medlar. Then it will be the earliest 

fruit i' the country; for you'll be rotten ere 120 

you be half ripe, and that's the right virtue 

of the medlar. 
Touch. You have said ; but whether wisely or no, 

let the forest judge. 



Act III. Sc. ii] AS YOU LIKE IT. 103 

Enter Celia, with a ivriting. 
125 Ros. Peace! 

Here comes my sister, reading; stand 
aside. 
Cel. [Reads. ,] Why should this a desert be? 
For it is unpeopled? No ! 
lso Tongues I'll hang on every tree, 

That shall civil sayings show : 
Some, how brief the life of man 

Euns his erring pilgrimage, 
That the stretchin^of_a_span 
135 Buckles in his sum of age; 

Some, of violated vows 

'Twixt the souls of friend and friend; 
But upon the fairest boughs, 
Or at every sentence end, 
140 Will I Rosalinda write, 

Teaching all that read to know 
The quintessence of every sprite 
Heaven would in little show. 
Therefore Heaven Nature charged 
145 That one body should be filled 

With all graces wide-enlarged. 

Nature presently distilled 
Helen's cheek, but not her heart, 
Cleopatra's majesty, 
180 Atalanta's better part, 

Sad Lucretia's modesty*/ 
Thus Eosalind of many parts 

By heavenly synod was devised ;u 



104 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. Sc. ii. 

Of many faces, eyes, and hearts, 

To have the touches clearest prized. 155 

Heaven would that she these gifts should 

have, 
And I to live and die her slave. 
Ros. O most gentle pulpiter ! what tedious homily 
of love have you wearied your parishioners 
withal, and never cried "Have patience, goodieo 
people!" 
Cel. How now! Back, friends! Shepherd, go 

off a little. Go with him, sirrah. 
Touch. Come, shepherd, let us make an honour- 
able retreat ; though not with bag and bag- 165 
gage, yet with scrip and scrippage. 

[Exeunt Covin and Touchstone. 

Cel. Didst thou hear these verses? 

Ros. 0, yes, I heard them all, and more, too; for 
some of them had in them more feet than 
the verses would bear. 170 

Cel. That's no matter. The feet might bear the 
verses. 

Ros. Ay, but the feet were lame and could not 
bear themselves without the verse and there- 
fore stood lamely in the verse. 175 

Cel. But didst thou hear without wondering how 
thy name should be hanged and carved upon 
these trees? 

Ros, I was seven of the nine days out of the 
wonder before you came; for look hereiso 



Act III. Sc. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 105 

what I found on a palm tree. I was 
never so berhymed since Pythagoras' time, 
that I was an Irish rat, which I can hardly 
remember. 
185 Cel. Trow you who hath done this? 
Eos. Is it a man? 
Cel. And a chain, that you once wore, about his 

neck. Change you colour? 
Eos. I prithee, who? 
190 Cel. Lord, Lord ! it is a hard matter for friends 
to meet ; but mountains may be removed with 
earthquakes and so encounter. 
Eos. Nay, but who is it? 
Cel. Is it possible? 
■mEos. Nay, I prithee now with most petitionary 
vehemence, tell me who it is. 
Cel. wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful 
wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and 
after that, out of all hooping! 
200 Eos. Good my complexion! clost thou think, 
- though I am caparisoned like a man, I have 
a doublet and hose in my disposition? One 
inch of delay more is a South-sea of discov- 
ery. I prithee, tell me who is it quickly, 
205 and speak apace. I would thou couldst 
stammer, that thou might' st pour this con- 
cealed man out of thy mouth, as wine comes 
out of a narrow-mouthed bottle, either too 
much at once, or none at all. I prithee, 
2io take the cork out of thy mouth that I may 



108 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. So. ii. 

drink thy tidings. ... Is he of God's making? 
What manner of man? Is his head worth a 
hat or his chin worth a beard? 

Gel. Nay, he hath but a little beard. 

Bos. Why, God will send more, if the man will 215 
be thankful. Let me stay the growth of his 
beard, if thou delay me not the knowledge of 
his chin. 

Gel. It is young Orlando, that tripped up the 
wrestler's heels and your heart both in an 220 
instant. 

Bos. Nay, but the devil take mocking. Speak 
sad brow and true maid. 

Gel. I' faith, coz, 'tis he. 

Bos. Orlando? 225 

Gel. Orlando. 

Bos. Alas the day! what shall I do with my 
doublet and hose? What did he when thou 
sawest him? What said he? How looked 
he? W T herein went he? What makes he 230 
here? Did he ask for me? Where remains 
he? How parted he with thee? And when 
shalt thou see him again? Answer me in one 
word. 

Gel. You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth 235 
first. 'Tis a word too great for any mouth 
of this age's size. To say ay and no to these 
particulars is more than to answer in a cate- 
chism. 

Bos. But doth he know that I am in this forest 240 



Act III. Sc. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 107 

and in man's apparel? Looks he as freshly 

as he did the day he wrestled? 
Cel. It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve 

the propositions of a lover. But take a taste 
245 of my finding him, and relish it with good 

observance. I found him under a tree, like 

a dropped acorn. 
Eos. It may well be called Jove's tree, when it 

drops forth such fruit. 
250 Cel. Give me audience, good madam. 
Eos. Proceed. 
Cel. There lay he, stretched along, like a 

wounded knight. 
Eos. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it 
255 well becomes the ground. 

Cel. Cry " holla" to thy tongue, I prithee; it 

curvets unseasonably. He was furnished 

like a hunter. 
Eos. 0, ominous! he comes to kill my heart. 
260 Cel. I would sing my song without a burden. 

Thou bringest me out of tune. 
Eos. Do you not know I am a woman? When I 

think, I must speak. Sweet, say on. 
Cel. You bring me out. Soft! comes he not 
265 here? 

Enter Orlando and Jaques. 

Eos. 'Tis he. Slink by, and note him. 
Jaq. I thank you for your company; but, good 
faith, I had as lief have been myself alone. 



108 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. Sc. ii. 

Orl. And so had I ; but yet, for fashion sake, 

I thank you too for your society. 270 

Jaq. God buy you; let's meet as little as we can. 
Orl. I do desire we may be better strangers. 
Jaq. I pray you, mar no more trees with writing 

love-songs in their barks. 
Orl. I pray you, mar no moe of my verses with 275 

reading them ill-favouredly. 
Jaq. Eosalind is your love's name? 
Orl. Yes, just. 
Jaq. I do not like her name. 
Orl. There was no thought of pleasing you when 280 

she was christened. 
Jaq. What stature is she of? 
Orl. Just as high as my heart. 
Jaq. Y r ou are full of pretty answers. Have you 

not been acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, 285 

and conned them out of rings? 
Orl. Not so; but I answer you right painted 

cloth, from whence you have studied your 

questions. 
Jaq. You have a nimble wit. I think 'twas made 290 

of Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with 

me? and we two will rail against our mistress 

the world, and all our misery. 
Orl. I will chide no breather in the world but 

myself, against whom I know most faults. 295 
Jaq. The worst fault you have is to be in love. 
Orl. 'Tis a fault I will not change for your best 

virtue. I am weary of you. 



Act III. So. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 109 

Jaq. By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when 
300 I found you. 

Orl. He is drowned in the brook. Look but in, 

and you shall see him. 
Jaq. There I shall see mine own figure. 
Orl. Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher. 
305 Jaq. I'll tarry no longer with you. Farewell, 

good Signior Love. 
Orl. I am glad of your departure. Adieu, good 

Monsieur Melancholy. [Exit Jaques. 

Eos. [Aside to Celia.] I will speak to him like a 

310 saucy lackey, and under that habit play the 

knave with him. Do you hear, forester? 
Orl. Very well. What would you? 
Bos. I pray you, what is 't o'clock? 
Orl. You should ask me what time o' day. 
815 There's no clock in the forest. 

Eos. Then there is no true lover in the forest ; 

else sighing every minute and groaning every 

hour would detect the lazy foot of Time as 

well as a clock. 
820 Orl. And why not the swift foot of Time? Had 

not that been as proper? 
Eos. By no means, sir. Time travels in divers 

paces with divers persons. I'll tell you who 

Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, 
325 who Time gallops withal, and who he stands 

still withal. 
Orl. I prithee, who doth he trot withal? 
Eos. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid 



110 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. Sc. ii 

between the contract of her marriage and the 
day it is solemnized. If the interim be but 330 
a se'nnight, Time's pace is so hard that it 
seems the length of seven year. 

Orl . Who ambles Time withal? 

Bos. With a priest that lacks Latin, and a rich 
man that hath not the gout; for the one 335 
sleeps easily because he cannot study, and 
the other lives merrily because he feels no 
pain ; the one lacking the burden of lean and 
wasteful learning, the other knowing no 
burden of heavy tedious penury. These 340 
Time ambles withal. 

Orl. Who doth he gallop withal? 

Bos. With a thief to the gallows ; for though he 
go as softly as foot can fall, he thinks 
himself too soon there. 345 

Orl. Who stays it still withal? 

Bos. With lawyers in the vacation ; for they sleep 
between term and term and then they 
perceive not how Time moves. 

Orl. Where dwell you, pretty youth? 350 

Bos. With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the 
skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat. ; 

Orl. Are you native of this place? 

Bos. As the cony that you see dwell where she is 
kindled. 355 

Orl. Your accent is something finer than you 
could purchase in so removed a dwelling. 

Bos. I have been told so of many ; but indeed an 



Act III. Sc. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. Ill 

old religious uncle of mine taught me to 

360 speak, who was in his youth an inland man; 
one that knew courtship too well, for there 
he fell in love. I have heard him read many 
lectures against it, and I thank God I am not 
a woman, to be touched with so many giddy 

365 offences as he hath generally taxed their 
whole sex withal. 
Orl. Can you remember any of the principal evils 

that he laid to the charge of women? 
Eos. There were none principal; they were all 

370 like one another as half -pence are, every one 
fault seeming monstrous till his fellow -fault 
came to match it. 
Orl. I prithee, recount some of them. 
Eos. No, I will not cast away my physic but on 

375 those that are sick. There is a man haunts 
the forest, that abuses our young plants with 
carving Eosalind on their barks ; hangs odes 
upon hawthorns and elegies on brambles ; all, 
forsooth, deifying the name of Eosalind. If 

380 I could meet that fancy-monger, I would 
give him some good counsel, for he seems to 
have the quotidian of love upon him. 
Orl. I am he that is so love-shaked. I pray you, 
tell me your remedy. 

85 Eos. There is none of my uncle's marks upon 
you. He taught me how to know a man in 
love, in which cage of rushes I am sure you 
are not prisoner. 



112 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. So. ii. 

Orl. What were his marks? 

Ros. A lean cheek, which you have not; a blue 890 
eye and sunken, which you have not; an 
unquestionable spirit, which you have not; a 
beard neglected, which you have not; but I 
pardon you for that, for simply your having 
in beard is a younger brother's revenue. 395 
Then your hose should be ungartered, your 
bonnet unhanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, 
your shoe untied, and every thing about you 
demonstrating a careless desolation. But 
you are no such man ; you are rather point- 400 
device in your accoutrements, as loving 
yourself than seeming the lover of any other. 
Orl. Fair youth, I would I could make thee 

believe I love. 
Ros. Me believe it ! you may as soon make her 405n 
that you love believe it; which, I warrant, 
she is apter to do than to confess she does. 
That is one of the points in the which women 
still give the lie to their consciences. But, 
in good sooth, are you he that hangs the 410: 
verses on the trees, wherein Eosalind is so 
admired? 
Orl I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of 
Eosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he. 
Ros. But are you so much in love as your rhymes 1 

speak? 
Orl. Neither rhyme nor reason can express how 
much. 



ACT III. Sc. v.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 127 

I love him not nor hate him not ; and yet 

I have more cause to hate him than to love 
him; 

For what had he to do to chide at me? 
9 He said mine eyes were black and my hair 
black ; 

And, now I am remembered, scorned at me. 

I marvel why I answered not again. 

But that's all one; omittance is no quittance. 

I'll write to him a very taunting letter, 
5 And thou shalt bear it ; wilt thou, Silvius? 
1 Sil. Phebe, with all my heart. 
Phe. I'll write it straight. 

The matter's in my head and in my heart. 

I will be bitter with him and passing short. 

Go with me, Silvius. [Exeunt. 



ACT FOURTH. 

Scene I. 

The forest. 
Enter Rosalind, Delia, and Jaques. 

Jaq. I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better 
acquainted with thee. 

Eos. They say you are a melancholy fellow. 

Jaq. I am so ; I do love it better than laughing. 

Bos. Those that are in extremity of either ares 
abominable fellows, and betray themselves to 
every modern censure worse than drunkards. 

Jaq. Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing. 

Eos. Why then, 'tis good to be a post. 

Jaq. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, 10 
which is emulation; nor the musician's, 
which is fantastical; nor the courtier's, 
which is proud; nor the soldier's, which is 
ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which is politic; 
nor the lady's, which is nice ; nor the lover's, 15 
which is all these: but it is a melancholy of 
mine own, compounded of many simples, 
extracted from many objects; and indeed the 
sundry contemplation of my travels, in which 



Act III. Sc. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 113 

Eos. Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, 

420 deserves as well a dark house and a whip as 
madmen do; and the reason why they are 
not so punished and cured is, that the lunacy 
is so ordinary that the whippers are in love 
too. Yet I profess curing it by counsel. 

425 Orl. Did you ever cure any so? 

Eos. Yes, one, and in this manner. He was to 
imagine me his love, his mistress, and I set 
him every day to woo me; at which time 
would I, being but a moonish youth, grieve, 

430 be effeminate, changeable, longing and 
liking; proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, 
inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles; for 
every passion something and for no passion 
truly any thing, as boys and women are for 

435 the most part cattle of this colour; would 
now like him, now loathe him ; then enter- 
tain him, then forswear him ; now weep for 
him, then spit at him; that I drave my 
suitor from his mad humour of love to a 

440 living humour of madness; which was, to 
forswear the full stream of the world and to 
live in a nook, merely monastic. And thus 
I cured him ; and this way will I take upon 
me to wash your liver as clean as a sound 

445 sheep's heart, that there shall not be one 
spot of love in't. 
Orl. I would not be cured, youth. 
Eos. I would cure you, if you would but call mo 



114 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. Sc. iii. 

Eosalind and come every day to my cote and 
woo me. 450 

Orl. Now, by the faith of my love, I will. Tell 
me where it is. 

Eos. Go with me to it and I'll show it you; and 
by the way you shall tell me where in the 
forest you live. Will you go? 455 

Orl. With all my heart, good youth. 

Eos. Nay, you must call me Eosalind. Come, 
sister, will you go? [Exeunt. 



SOEKE III. 

The forest. 
Enter Touchstone and Audrey; Jaques behind. 

Touch. Come apace, good Audrey. I will fetch 
up your goats, Audrey. And how, Audrey? 
Am I the man yet? Doth my simple feature 
content you? 

Aud. Your features! Lord warrant us! what 5 
features? 

Touch. I am here with thee and thy goats, as the 
most capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among 
the Goths. 

Jaq. [Aside.'] knowledge ill-inhabited, worse 10 
than Jove in a thatched house ! 

Touch. When a man's verses cannot be under- 
stood, nor a man's good wit seconded with 



Act III. Sc. iii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 115 

the forward child, understanding, it strikes 
15 a man more dead than a great reckoning in a 

little room. Truly, I would the gods had 

made thee poetical. 
Aud. I do not know what "poetical" is. Is it 

honest in deed and word? Is it a true thing? 
20 Touch. No, truly; for the truest poetry is the 

most feigning; and lovers are given to 

poetry, and what they swear in poetry may 

be said as lovers they do feign. 
Aud. Do you wish then that the gods had made 
25 me poetical? 
Touch. I do, truly ; for thou swearest to me thou 

art honest. Now, if thou wert a poet, I 

might have some hope thou didst feign. 
Aud. Would you not have me honest? 
80 Touch. No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favoured ; 

for honesty coupled to beauty is to have 

honey a sauce to sugar. 
Jaq. [Aside. ] A material fool! 
Aud. Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray 
35 the gods make me honest. 
Touch. Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a 

foul slut were to put good meat into an 

unclean dish. 
Aud. I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I 
40 am foul. 
Touch. Well, praised be the gods for thy foul- 
ness! Sluttishness may come hereafter. 

But be it as it may be, I will marry thee, 



116 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. So. iii. 

and to that end I have been with Sir Oliver 
Martext, the vicar of the next village, who 45 
hath promised to meet me in this place of the 
forest and to couple us. 

Jaq. [Aside.] I would fain see this meeting. 

Aud. Well, the gods give us joy! 

Touch. Amen. A man may, if he were of a 50 
fearful heart, stagger in this attempt; for 
here we have no temple but the wood, no 
assembly but horn-beasts. But what though? 
Courage! As horns are odious, they are 
necessary. It is said, "Many a man knows 55 
no end of his goods." Eight; many a man 
has good horns, and knows no end of them. 
Well, that is the dowry of his wife; 'tis none 
of his own getting. Horns? — even so. Poor 
men alone? No, no; the noblest deer hath.60 
them as huge as the rascal. Is the single 
man therefore blessed? No: as a walled 
town is more worthier than a village, so is 
the forehead of a married man more honour- 
able than the bare brow of a bachelor ; and 65 
by how much defence is better than no skill, 
by so much is a horn more precious than to 
want. Here comes Sir Oliver. 

Enter Sir Oliver Martext. 
Sir Oliver Martext, you are well met. Will 
you dispatch us here under this tree, or shall 70 
we go with you to your chapel? 

Sir Oli. Is there none here to give the woman? 



Act III. Sc. iii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 117 

Touch. I will not take her on gift of any man. 
Sir 01%. Truly, she must be given, or the marriage 
75 is not lawful. 
Jaq. Proceed, proceed. I'll give her. 
Touch. Good even, good Master What-ye-call-'t; 

how do you, sir? You are very well met. 

God 'ild you for your last company. I am 
so very glad to see you. Even a toy in hand 

here, sir. Nay, pray be covered. 
Jaq. Will you be married, motley? 
Touch. As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his 

curb, and the falcon her bells, so man hath 
85 his desires; and as pigeons bill, so wedlock 

would be nibbling. 
Jaq. And will you, being a man of your breeding, 

be married under a bush like a beggar? Get 

you to church, and have a good priest that 
90 can tell you what marriage is. This fellow 

will but join you together as they join 

wainscot; then one of you will prove a 

shrunk panel, and like green timber warp, 

warp. 
95 Touch. [Aside.'] I am not in the mind but I were 

better to be married of him than of another ; 

for he is not like to marry me well ; and not 

being well married, it will be a good excuse 

for me hereafter to leave my wife. 
ioo Jaq. Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee. 
Touch. Come, sweet Audrey: 

We must be married. . . . 



118 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act. III. Sc. iv. 

Farewell, good Master Oliver: not, — 
sweet Oliver, 

brave Oliver, i« 

Leave me not behind thee; 
but, — 

Wind away, 
Begone, I say, 
I will not to wedding with thee. no 

[Exeunt Jaques, Touchstone, and Audrey. 
Sir Oli. 'Tis no matter. Ne'er a fantastical 
knave of them all shall flout me out of my 
calling. [Exit. 



Scene IV. 

The forest. 
Enter Rosalind and Celia. 

Eos. Never talk to me ; I will weep. 

Gel. Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to 

consider that tears do not become a man. 
Eos. But have I not cause to weep? 
Gel. As good cause as one would desire; therefore 5 

weep. 
Eos. His very hair is of the dissembling colour. 
Gel. Something browner than Judas's. Marry, 

his kisses are Judas's own children. 
Eos. F faith, his hair is of a good colour. io 






Act III. Sc. iv.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 119 

Cel. An excellent colour. Your chestnut was 

ever the only colour. 
Eos. And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the 
touch of holy bread. 
is Cel. He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana. 
A nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more 
religiously. The very ice of chastity is in them. 
Eos. But why did he swear he would come this 
morning, and comes not? 
20 Cel. Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him. 

Eos. Do you think so? 
, Cel. Yes ; I think he is not a pick-purse nor a 
horse-stealer; but for his verity in love, I do 
think him as concave as a covered goblet or 
25 a worm-eaten nut. 
Eos. Not true in love? 

Cel. Yes, when he is in ; but I think he is not in. 
Eos. You have heard him swear downright he 
was. 
so Cel. "Was" is not "is." Besides, the oath of a 
lover is no stronger than the word of a 
tapster ; they are both the confirmer of false 
reckonings. He attends here in the forest 
on the Duke your father. 
35 Eos. I met the Duke yesterday and had much 
question with him. He asked me of what 
parentage I was. I told him, of as good as 
he; so he laughed and let me go. But what 
talk we of fathers, when there is such a man 
40 as Orlando? 



120 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. Sc. iv. 

Gel. 0, that's a brave man! He writes brave 
verses, speaks brave words, swears brave 
oaths and breaks them bravely, quite 
traverse, athwart the heart of his lover; as a 
puisny tilter, that spurs his horse but on one 45 
side, breaks his staff like a noble goose. But 
all's brave that youth mounts and folly 
guides. Who comes here? 
Enter Covin. 

Cor. Mistress and master, you have oft inquired 
After the shepherd that complained of love, 50 
Who you saw sitting by me on the turf, 
Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess 
That was his mistress. 

Cel. Well, and what of him? 

Cor. If you will see a pageant truly played, 

Between the pale complexion of true love 55 
And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain, 
Go hence a little and I shall conduct you, 
If you will mark it. 

Eos. 0, come, let us remove. 

The sight of lovers feedeth those in love. 
Bring us to this sight, and you shall say 60 
I'll prove a busy actor in their play. 

[Exeunt. 



Act III. Sc. v.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 121 



Scene V. 

Another part of the forest. 
Enter Silvius and Phebe. 

Sil. Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, 
Phebe. 
Say that you love me not, but say net so 
In bitterness. The common executioner, 
Whose heart the accustomed sight of death 
makes hard, 
5 Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck 

But first begs pardon. Will you sterner be 
Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops? 
Enter Rosalind ', Celia, and Corin, behind. 
Phe. I would not be thy executioner. 

I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. 
10 Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye. 
'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, 
That eyes, that are the frail' st and softest 

things, 
Who shut their coward gates on atomies, 
Should be called tyrants, butchers, mur- 
derers ! 
15 Now I do frown on thee with all my heart ; 

And if mine eyes can wound, now let them 
kill thee. 



122 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. Sc. v. 

Now counterfeit to swoon; why, now fall 

down; 
Or if thou canst not, 0, for shame, for shame, 
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers! 
Now show the wound mine eye hath made in 20 

thee. 
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there 

remains 
Some scar of it ; lean but upon a rush, 
The cicatrice and capable impressure 
Thy palm some moment keeps; but now 

mine eyes, 
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee 25 

not, 
Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes 
That can do hurt. 
Sil. dear Phebe, 

If ever, — as that ever may be near — 
You meet in some fresh cheek the power of 

fancy, 
Then shall you know the wounds invisible 30 
That love's keen arrows make. 
Plie. But till that time 

Come not thou near me ; and when that time 

comes, 
Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not, 
As till that time I shall not pity thee. 
Bos. And why, I pray you? Who might be your 35 

mother, 
That you insult, exult, and all at once, 



Act III. Sc. v.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 123 

Over the wretched? What though you have 

no beauty, — 
As, by my faith, I see no more in you 
Than without candle may go dark to bed — 
40 Must you be therefore proud and pitiless? 

Why, what means this? Why do you look 

on me? 
I see no more in you than in the ordinary 
Of nature's sale-work. 'Od's my little life, 
I think she means to tangle my eyes too ! 
45 No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it. 
'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk 

hair, 
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of 

cream, 
That can entame my spirits to your worship. 
You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you fol- 
low her, 
50 Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain? 
You are a thousand times a properer man 
Than she a woman. 'Tis such fools as you 
That makes the world full of ill-favoured 

children. 
'Tis not her glass, but you, that natters her; 
55 And out of you she sees herself more proper 
Than any of her lineaments can show her. 
But, mistress, know yourself. Down on your 

knees, 
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's 

love; 



124 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. Sc. v. 

For I must tell yon friendly in yonr ear, 

Sell when yon can. Yon are not for all6o 

markets. 
Cry the man mercy ; love him ; take his offer. 
Foul is most foul, being fonl to be a scoffer. 
So take her to thee, shepherd. Fare yon 

well. 
Plie. Sweet yonth, I pray yon, chide a year 

together. 
I had rather hear yon chide than this man 65 

woo. 
Bos. He's fallen in love with your foulness, and 
she'll fall in love with my anger. If it be so, 
as fast as she answers thee with frowning 
looks, I'll sauce her with bitter words. Why 
look you so upon me? 70 

Phe. For no ill will I bear you. 
Bos. I pray you, do not fall in love with me, 
For I am falser than vows made in wine. 
Besides, I like you not. If you will know 

my house, 
'Tis at the tuft of olives here hard by. 75 

Will you go, sister? Shepherd, ply her hard. 
Come, sister. Shepherdess, look on him 

better, 
And be not proud. Though all the world 

could see, 
None could be so abused in sight as he. 
Come, to our flock. so 

\Exeunt Bosalind, Celia, and Covin, 






Act III. Sc. v.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 125 



Phe. Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might, 
"Who ever loved that loved not at first 
sight?" 

Sil. Sweet Phebe, 

Phe. Ha, what say'st thou, Silvius? 

Sil. Sweet Phebe, pity me. 
&Phe. Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius. 
Sil. Wherever sorrow is, relief would be. 
If you do sorrow at my grief in love, 
By giving love, your sorrow and my grief 
Were both extermined. 
90 Phe. Thou hast my love. Is not that neigh- 
bour^? 
Sil. I would have you. 

Phe. Why, that were covetousness. 

Silvius, the time was that I hated thee, 
And yet it is not that I bear thee love; 
But since that thou canst talk of love so well, 
95 Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, 
I 'will endure, and I'll employ thee too. 
But do not look for further recompense 
Than thine own gladness that thou art 
employed. 
Sil. So holy and so perfect is my love, 
.oo And I in such a poverty of grace, 

That I shall think it a most plenteous crop 
To glean the broken ears after the man 
That the main harvest reaps. Loose now 

and then 
A scattered smile, and that I'll live upon. 



126 



AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act III. Sc. v 



Phe. Know'st thou the youth that spoke to me 105 

erewhile? 
Sit. Not very well, but I have met him oft ; 

And he hath bought the cottage and the 

bounds 
That the old carlot once was master of. 
Phe. Think not I love him, though I ask for him ; 
'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well. 110 
But what care I for words? Yet words do well 
When he that speaks them pleases those that 

hear. 
It is a pretty youth ; not very pretty ; 
But, sure, he's proud, and yet his pride 

becomes him. 
He'll make a proper man. The best thing 115 

in him 
Is his complexion ; and faster than his tongue 
Did make offence his eye did heal it up 
He is not very tall ; yet for his years he's tall 
His leg is but so so ; and yet 'tis well. 
There was a pretty redness in his lip, 
A little riper and more lusty red 
Than that mixed in his cheek ; 'twas just the 

difference 
Betwixt the constant red and mingled 

damask. 
There be some women, Silvius, had they 

marked him 
In parcels as I did, would have gone near iss 
To fall in love with him ; but, for my part, 



Act IV. Sc. i.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 129 

20 my often rumination wraps me in a most 

humorous sadness 

Eos. A traveller ! By my faith, you have great 
reason to be sad. I fear you have sold your 
own lands to see other men's; then, to have 
25 seen much, and to have nothing, is to have 

rich eyes and poor hands. 
Jaq. Yes, I have gained my experience. 
Eos. And your experience makes you sad. I had 
rather have a fool to make me merry than 
30 experience to make me sad ; and to travel for 
it too ! 

Enter Orlando. 
Orl. Good-day and happiness, dear Eosalind! 
Jaq. Nay, then, God buy you, an you talk in 
blank verse. [Exit. 

& Eos. Farewell, Monsieur Traveller. Look you 
lisp and wear strange suits, disable all the 
benefits of your own country, be out of love 
with your nativity, and almost chide God for 
making you that countenance you are, or I 
40 will scarce think you have swam in a gon- 
dola. Why, how now, Orlando! Where 
have you been all this while? You a lover ! 
An you serve me such another trick, never 
come in my sight more. 
45 Orl. My fair Eosalind, I come within an hour of 
my promise. 
Eos. Break an hour's promise in love! He that 
will divide a minute into a thousand parts, 



130 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act. IV. Sc. i. 

and break but a part of the thousandth part 
of a minute in the affairs of love, it may beso 
said of him that Cupid hath clapped him o' 
the shoulder, but I'll warrant him heart- 
whole. 

Orl. Pardon me, dear Rosalind. 

Ros. Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in 55 
my sight. I had as lief be wooed of a snail. 

Orl. Of a snail? 

Ros. Ay, of a snail ; for though he comes slowly, 
he carries his house on his head; a better 
jointure, I think, than you make a woman. 60 
Besides, he brings his destiny with him. 

Orl. What's that? 

Ros. Why, horns, which such as you are fain to 
be beholding to your wives for. But he 
comes armed in his fortune and prevents the 65 
slander of his wife. 

Orl. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Eosalind 
is virtuous. 

Ros. And I am your Rosalind. 

Gel. It pleases him to call you so ; but he hath a 70 
Rosalind of a better leer than you. 

Ros. Come, woo me, woo me ; for now I am in a 
holiday humour and like enough to consent. 
What would you say to me now, an I were 
your very very Rosalind? 75 

Orl. I would kiss before I spoke. 

Ros. Nay, you were better speak first ; and when 
you were gravelled for lack of matter, you 



Act IV. So. i.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 131 

might take occasion to kiss. Very good 
80 orators, when they are out, they will spit ; 
and for lovers lacking — God warn us! — 
matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss. 

Orl. How if the kiss be denied? 

Eos. Then she puts you to entreaty and there 
85 begins new matter. 

Orl. Who could be out, being before his beloved 
mistress? 

Eos. Marry, that should you, if I were your 
mistress, or I should think my honesty ranker 
90 than my wit. 

Orl. What, of my suit? 

Eos. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your 
suit. Am not I your Rosalind? 

Orl. I take some joy to say you are, because I 
95 would be talking of her. 

Eos. Well, in her person, I say I will not have 
you. 

Orl. Then in mine own person I die. 

Eos. No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world 
loo is almost six thousand years old, and in all 
this time there was not any man died in his 
own person, videlicet, in a love-cause. Troi- 
lns had his brains dashed out with a Grecian 
club ; yet he did what he could to die before, 
105 and he is one of the patterns of love. 
Leander, he would have lived many a fair 
year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had 
not been for a hot mid-summer night; for, 



132 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act IV. Sc. i. 

good youth, he went but forth to wash him 
in the Hellespont and being taken with the no 
cramp was drowned ; and the foolish chroni- 
clers of that age found it was — Hero of 
Sestos. But these are all lies. Men have 
died from time to time and worms have eaten 
them, but not for love. 115 

Orl. I would not have my right Eosalind of this 
mind ; for, I protest, her frown might kill me. 

Eos. By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But 
come, now I will be your Eosalind in a more 
coming-on disposition, and ask me what you 120 
will, I will grant it. 

Orl. Then love me, Rosalind. 

Eos. Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays 
and all. 

Orl. And wilt thou have me? 135 

Eos. Ay, and twenty such. 

Orl. What sayest thou? 

Eos. Are you not good? 

Orl. I hope so. 

Eos. Why then, can one desire too much of a 130 1 
good thing? Come, sister, you shall be the 
priest and marry us. Give me your hand, 
Orlando. What do you say, sister? 

Orl. Pray thee, marry us. 

Gel. I cannot say the words. 135 

Eos. You must begin, "Will yon, Orlando " 

Gel. Go to. Will you, Orlando, have to wife this 
Rosalind? 



Act IV. So. i.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 133 

Orl. I will. 
140 Eos. Ay, but when? 

Orl. Why now ; as fast as she can marry us. 
Eos. Then you must say, "I take thee, Eosalind, 

for wife." 
Orl. I take thee, Eosalind, for wife. 
145 Eos. I might ask you for your commission ; but I 
do take thee, Orlando, for my husband. 
There's a girl goes before the priest; and 
certainly a woman's thought runs before her 
actions. 
150 Orl. So do all thoughts ; they are winged. 

Eos. Now tell me how long you would have her 

after you have possessed her. 
Orl. For ever and a day. 

Eos. Say "a day," without the "ever." No, no, 

155 Orlando. Men are April when they woo, 

December when they wed; maids are May 

when they are maids, but the sky changes 

when they are wives. I will be more jealous 

of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his 

160 hen, more clamorous than a parrot against 

rain, more new-fangled than an ape, more 

giddy in my desires than a monkey. I will 

weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain, 

and I will do that when you are disposed to 

165 be merry ; I will laugh like a hyen, and that 

when thou art inclined to sleep. 

Orl. But will my Eosalind do so? 

Eos. By my life, she will do as I do. 



134 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act IV. Sc. i. 

Orl. 0, but she is wise. 

Eos. Or else she could not have the wit to doi70 
this. The wiser, the waywarder. Make the 
doors upon a woman's wit and it will out at 
the casement; shut that and 'twill out at the 
key-hole ; stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke 
out at the chimney. 175 

Orl. A man that had a wife with such a wit, he 
might say, "Wit, whither wilt?" 

Eos. You shall never take her without her 
answer, unless you take her without her 
tongue. 0, that woman that cannot makeiso 
her fault her husband's occasion, let her 
never nurse her child herself, for she will 
breed it like a fool ! 

Orl. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave 
thee. 185 

Eos. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two 
hours ! 

Orl. I must attend the Duke at dinner. By two 
o'clock I will be with thee again. 

Eos. Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I knewi90 
what you would prove. My friends told me 
as much, and I thought no less. That flat- 
tering tongue of yours won me. 'Tis but one 
cast away, and so, come, death! Two o'clock 
is your hour? 195 

Orl. Ay, sweet Eosalind. 

Eos. By my troth, and in good earnest, and so 



Act IV. Sc. i.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 135 

God mend me, and by all pretty oaths that 
are not dangerous, if you break one jot of 
your promise or come one minute behind 
your hour, I will think you the most 
pathetical break-promise, and the most 
hollow lover, and the most unworthy of her 
you call Eosalind, that may be chosen out of 
the gross band of the unfaithful ; therefore 
beware my censure and keep your promise. 

Orl. With no less religion than if thou wert 
indeed my Eosalind; so adieu. 

Eos. Well, Time is the old justice that examines 
all such offenders, and let Time try. Adieu. 

[Exit Orlando. 

Gel. You have simply misused our sex in your 
love -prate. We must have your doublet and 
hose plucked over your head, and show the 
world what the bird hath done to her own 
nest. 

Bos. coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that 
thou didst know how many fathom deep I am 
in love! But it cannot be sounded. My 
affection hath an unknown bottom, like the 
bay of Portugal. 

Cel. Or rather, bottomless; that as fast as you 
pour affection in, it runs out. 

Eos. No, that same wicked bastard of Venus 
that was begot of thought, conceived of 
spleen, and born of madness, that blind 
rascally boy that abuses every one's eyes 



136 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act IV. Sc. ii. 

because his own are out, let him be judge 
how deep I am in love. I'll tell thee, Aliena, 
I cannot be out of the sight of Orlando. 
I'll go find a shadow and sigh till he come. 230 
Cel. And I'll sleep. [Exeunt. 



Sceke II. 

The forest. 
Enter Jaques, Lords, and Foresters. 

Jaq. Which is he that killed the deer? 

A Lord. Sir, it was I. 

Jaq. Let's present him to the Duke, like a 
Eoman conqueror; and it would do well to 
set the deer's horns upon his head, for a 5 
branch of victory. Have you no song, for- 
ester, for this purpose? 

For. Yes, sir. 

Jaq. Sing it. 'Tis no matter how it be in tune, 
so it make noise enough. 10 

S02sTG. 

For. What shall he have that killed the deer? 
His leather skin and horns to wear. 
Then sing him home. 

[The rest shall dear this burden. 
Take thou no scorn to wear the horn ; 



Act IV. Sc. iii] AS YOU LIKE IT. 137 

It was a crest ere thou wast born ; 

Thy father's father wore it, 

And thy father bore it. 
The horn, the horn, the lusty horn 
Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. [Exeunt. 



Sceke III. 

The forest. 
Enter Rosalind and Celia. 

Eos. How say you now? Is it not past two 

o'clock? And here much Orlando! 
Cel. 1 warrant you, with pure love and troubled 
brain, he hath ta'en his bow and arrows and 
5 is gone forth — to sleep. Look, who comes 
here. 

Enter Silvius. 

Sil. My errand is to you, fair youth ; 

My gentle Phebe bid me give you this. 
I know not the contents ; but, as I guess 

10 By the stern brow and waspish action 

"Which she did use as she was writing of it, 
It bears an angry tenour. Pardon me, 
I am but as a guiltless messenger. 
Ros. Patience herself would startle at this letter 

15 And play the swaggerer. Bear this, bear all. 
She says I am not fair, that I lack manners ; 



138 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act IV. Sc. iii. 

She calls me proud, and that she could not 

love me, 
Were man as rare as phoenix. 'Od's my will! 
Her love is not the hare that I do hunt. 
Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, 20 

well, 
This is a letter of your own device. 
Sil. No, I protest, I know not the contents. 

Phebe did write it. 
Ros. Come, come, you are a fool, 

And turned into the extremity of love. 
I saw her hand ; she has a leathern hand, 25 
A freestone-coloured hand; I verily did think 
That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her 

hands ; 
She has a huswife's hand; but that's no 

matter. 
I say she never did invent this letter; 
This is a man's invention and his hand. 30 

Sil. Sure, it is hers. 
Eos. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style, 

A style for challengers ; why, she defies me, 
Like Turk to Christian. Women's gentle 

brain 
Could not drop forth such giant-rude 35 

invention, 
Such Ethiope words, blacker in their effect 
Than in their countenance. Will you hear 
the letter? 
Sil. So please you, for I never heard it yet; 



Act IV. Sc. iii] AS YOU LIKE IT. 139 

Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty. 
ioRos. She Phebes me. Mark how the tyrant 
writes. 
[Reads.] "Art thou god to shepherd turned, 
That a maiden's heart hath burned?" 
Can a woman rail thus? 
Sil Call you this railing? 
Ros. [Reads.] 
45 "Why, thy godhead laid apart, 

Warr'st thou with a woman's heart?" 
Did you ever hear such railing? 

" Whiles the eye of man did woo me, 
That could do no vengeance to me." 
50 Meaning me a beast. 

"If the scorn of your bright eyne 
Have power to raise such love in mine, 
Alack, in me what strange effect 
Would they work in mild aspect ! 
55 Whiles you chid me, I did love ; 

How then might your prayers move ! 
He that brings this love to thee 
Little knows this love in me ; 
And by him seal up thy mind, 
60 Whether that thy youth and kind 

Will the faithful offer take 
Of me and all that I can make ; 
Or else by him my love deny, 
And then I'll study how to die." 
65 Sil. Call you this chiding? 
Cel. Alas, poor shepherd! 



140 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act IV. Sc. iii. 

Eos. Do you pity him? No, he deserves no pity. 
Wilt thou love such a woman? What, to 
make thee an instrument and play false 
strains upon thee! Not to be endured !70 
Well, go your way to her — for I see love hath 
made thee a tame snake — and say this to 
her: that if she loves me, I charge her to 
love thee; if she will not, I will never have 
her unless thou entreat for her. If you be a 75 
true lover, hence, and not a word; for here 
comes more company. [Exit Silvius. 

Enter Oliver. 

■OIL Good morrow, fair ones. Pray you, if you 
know, 
Where in the purlieus of this forest stands 
A sheep-cote fenced about with olive-trees? so 

Gel. West of this place, down in the neighbour 
bottom. 
The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream 
Left on your right hand brings you to the 
place. 
. But at this hour the house doth keep itself; 
There's none within. 85 

Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue, 
Then should I know you by description; 
Such garments and such years. "The boy is 

fair, 
Of female favour, and bestows himself 
Like a ripe sister ; the woman low, 90 

And browner than her brother. ' ' Are not you 






Act IV. Sc. ill] AS YOU LIKE IT 141 

The owner of the house I did enquire for? 
Gel. It is no boast, being asked, to say we are. 
Oli. Orlando doth commend him to you both, 
And to that youth he calls his Rosalind 
He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he? 
Ros. I am. What must we understand by this? 
Oli. Some of my shame, if you will know of me 
What man I am, and how, and why, and 

where 
This handkercher was stained. 

I pray you, tell it. 
When last the young Orlando parted from 

you 
He left a promise to return again 
Within an hour; and pacing through the 

forest, 
Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, 
Lo, what befel ! He threw his eye aside, 
And mark what object did present itself. 
Under an oak, whose boughs were mossed 

with age 
And high top bald with dry antiquity, 
A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, 
Lay sleeping on his back. About his neck 
A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself, 
Who with her head nimble in threats 

approached 
The opening of his mouth ; but suddenly, 
Seeing Orlando, it unlinked itself, 
And with indented glides did slip away 



142 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act IV. Sc. iii. 

Into a bush; under which bush's shade 

A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, 

Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike 

watch, 
When that the sleeping man should stir ; for 

'tis 
The royal disposition of that beast iso 

To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead. 
This seen, Orlando did approach the man 
And found it was his brother, his elder 
brother. 

Gel. 0, I have heard him speak of that same 
brother ; 
And he did render him the most unnatural 125 
That lived amongst men. 

GIL And well he might so do, 

For well I know he was unnatural. 

Eos. But, to Orlando. Did he leave him there, 
Food to the sucked and hungry lioness? 

Oil. Twice did he turn his back and purposed so ; iso 
But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, 
And nature, stronger than his just occasion, 
Made him give battle to the lioness, 
Who quickly fell before him; in which 

hurtling 
From miserable slumber I awaked. 135 

Gel. Are you his brother? 

Eos. Was't you he rescued? 

Gel, Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill 
him? 






Act IV. Sc. iii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 143 

Oli. 'Twas I; but 'tis not I. I do not shame 
To tell you what I was, since my conversion 
140 So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. 
Bos. But, for the bloody napkin? 
Oli. By and by. 

When from the first to last betwixt us two 
Tears our recountments had most kindly 

bathed, 
As how I came into that desert place; 
145 In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke, 

Who gave me fresh array and entertainment, 
Committing me unto my brother's love; 
Who led me instantly unto his cave, 
There stripped himself, and here upon his 
arm 
i The lioness had torn some flesh away, 

Which all this while had bled; and now he 

fainted 
And cried, in fainting, upon Eosalind. 
Brief, I recovered him, bound up his wound \ 
And, after some small space, being strong at 

heart, 
He sent me hither, stranger as I am, 
To tell this story, that you might excuse 
His broken promise, and to give this napkin, 
Dyed in his blood, unto the shepherd youth 
That he in sport doth call his Eosalind. 

[Eosalind sivoons. 
\Cel. Why, how now, Ganymede! sweet Gany- 
mede ! 



144 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act IV. go. iii. 

Oli. Many will swoon when they do look on blood. 

Cel. There is more in it. Cousin Ganymede! 

Oli. Look, he recovers. 

Eos. I would I were at home. 

Cel. We'll lead you thither. 

I pray you, will you take him by the arm? ies 
OIL Be of good cheer, youth. You a man! You 

lack a man's heart. 
Eos. I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body 

would think this was well counterfeited! I 

pray you, tell your brother how well I coun- 170 

terf eited. Heigh-ho ! 
Oli. This was not counterfeit. There is too great 

testimony in your complexion that it was a 

passion of earnest. 
Eos. Counterfeit, I assure you. i75 v 

Oli. Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit 

to be a man. 
Eos. So I do. But, i' faith, I should have been 

a woman by right. 
Cel. Come, you look paler and paler. Pray you, iso 

draw homewards. Good sir, go with us. 
Oli. That will I, for I must bear answer back 

How you excuse my brother, Eosalind. 
Eos. I shall devise something ; but, I pray you, 

commend my counterfeiting to him. Willi85 

you go? [Exeunt. 



ACT FIFTH. 

SCENE I. 

Tlie forest. 
Enter Touchstone and Audrey. 

Touch. We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, 

gentle Audrey. 
Aud. Faith, the priest was good enough, for all 
the old gentleman's saying. 
5 Touch. A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a 
most vile Martext. But, Audrey, there is a 
youth here in the forest lays claim to you. 
Aud. Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interest in 
me in the world. Here comes the man you 
10 mean. 
Touch. It is meat and drink to me to see a clown. 
By my troth, we that have good wits have 
much to answer for ; we shall be flouting ; we 
cannot hold. 

Enter William. 
15 Will. Good even, Audrey. 
Aud. God ye good even, William. 
Will. And good even to you, sir. 
Touch. Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy 

145 



146 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act V. So. i. 

head, cover thy head; nay, prithee, be 
covered. How old are you, friend? 20 

Will. Five and twenty, sir. 

Touch. A ripe age. Is thy name "William? 

Will. William, sir. 

Touch. A fair name. Was 't born i' the forest here? 

Will. Ay, sir, I thank God. 25 

Touch. "Thank God" — a good answer. Art rich? 

Will. Faith, sir, so so. 

Touch. "So so" is good, very good, very excellent 
good ; and yet it is not ; it is but so so. Art 
thou wise? 30 

Will. Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit. 

Touch. Why, thou say est well. I do now remem- 
ber a saying, "The fool doth think he is 
wise, but the wise man knows himself to be 
a fool." The heathen philosopher, when he 35 
had a desire to eat a grape, would open his 
lips when he put it into his mouth ; meaning 
thereby that grapes were made to eat and lips 
to open. You do love this maid? 

Will. I do, sir. 40 

Touch. Give me your hand. Art thou learned? 

Will. No, sir. 

Touch. Then learn this of me: to have, is to 
have ; for it is a figure in rhetoric that drink, 
being poured out of a cup into a glass, by 45 
filling the one doth empty the other ; for all 
your writers do consent that ipse is he : now, 
you are not ipse, for I am he. 



Act V. Sc. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 147 

Will. Which he, sir? 
50 Touch. He, sir, that must marry this woman. 
Therefore, you clown, abandon, — which is in 
the vulgar leave — the society, — which in the 
boorish is company — of this female, — which 
in the common is woman ; which together is, 
55 abandon the society of this female ; or, clown, 
thou perishest ; or, to thy better understand- 
ing, diest; or, to wit, I kill thee, make thee 
away, translate thy life into death, thy liberty 
into bondage. I will deal in poison with thee, 
60 or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy with 
thee in faction; I will o'er-run thee with 
policy ; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty 
ways : therefore tremble, and depart. 
Aud. Do, good William. 
65 Will. God rest you merry, sir. [Exit. 

Enter Covin. 
Cor. Our master and mistress seeks you. Come, 

away, away! 
Touch. Trip, Audrey! trip, Audrey! I attend, I 
attend. [Exeunt. 

Sceke II. 

The forest. 
Enter Orlando and Oliver. 

Orl. Is't possible that on so little acquaintance 
you should like her? That but seeing you 



148 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act V. Sc. ii. 

should love her? And loving woo? And, 
wooing, she should grant? And will you 
persever to enjoy her? 5 

Oil. Neither call the giddiness of it in question, 
the poverty of her, the small acquaintance, 
my sudden wooing, nor [her] sudden con- 
senting; but say with me, I love Aliena; say 
with her that she loves me; consent withio 
both that we may enjoy each other. It shall 
be to your good; for my father's house and 
all the revenue that was old Sir Eoland's 
will I estate upon you, and here live and die 
a shepherd. 15 

Orl. You have my consent. Let your wedding 
be to-morrow; thither will I invite the Duke 
and all 's contented followers. Go you and 
prepare Aliena; for look you, here comes my 
Eosalind. 20 

Enter Rosalind. 

Ros. God save you, brother. 

Oli. And you, fair sister. [Exit. 

Ros. 0, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to 
see thee wear thy heart in a scarf ! 

Orl. It is my arm. 25 

Ros. I thought thy heart had been wounded with 
the claws of a lion. 

Orl. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. 

Ros. Did your brother tell you how I counter- 
feited to swoon when he showed me your30 
handkercher? 



Act V. Sc. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 149 

Orl. Ay, and greater wonders than that. 

Bos. 0, I know where you are. Nay, 'tis true. 
There was never any thing so sudden but the 
fight of two rams, and Caesar's thrasonical 
brag of "I came, saw, and overcame"; for 
your brother and my sister no sooner met but 
they looked; no sooner looked but they 
loved; no sooner loved but they sighed; no 
sooner sighed but they asked one another the 
reason; no sooner knew the reason but they 
sought the remedy; and in these degrees 
have they made a pair of stairs to marriage 
which they will climb incontinent . . . ; 
they are in the very wrath of love and they 
will together; clubs cannot part them. 

Orl. They shall be married to-morrow, and I will 
bid the Duke to the nuptial. But, 0, how 
bitter a thing it is to look into happiness 
through another man's eyes! By so much 
the more shall I to-morrow be at the height 
of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall think 
my brother happy in having what he wishes 
for. 

55 Bos. Why then, to-morrow I cannot serve your 
turn for Rosalind? 

Orl. I can live no longer by thinking. 

Bos. I will weary you then no longer with idle 
talking. Know of me then, for now I speak 
eo to some purpose, that I know you are a gen- 
tleman of good conceit. I speak not this 



150 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act V. Sc. ii. 

that you should bear a good opinion of my 
knowledge, insomuch I say I know you are ; 
neither do I labour for a greater esteem than 
may in some little measure draw a belief from 6& 
you, to do yourself good and not to grace me. 
Believe then, if you please, that I can do 
strange things. I have, since I was three 
years old, conversed with a magician, most 
profound in his art and yet not damnable. 70j 
If you do love Rosalind so near the heart as 
your gesture cries it out, when your brother 
marries Aliena, shall you marry her. I know 
into what straits of fortune she is driven ; and 
it is not impossible to me, if it appear not re 
inconvenient to you, to set her before your 
eyes to-morrow human as she is and without 
any danger. 

Orl. Speakest thou in sober meanings? 

Bos. By my life, I do ; which 1 tender dearly, 80 
though I say I am a magician. There- 
fore, put you in your best array; bid your 
friends ; for if you will be married to-morrow, 
you shall ; and to Rosalind, if you will. 

Enter Silvius and Pliebe. 
Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover 85 
of hers. 

Plie. Youth, you have done me much ungentle- 
ness, 
To show the letter that I writ to you. 

Bos. I care not if I have. It is my study 



Act Y. So. ii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 151 

flo To seem despiteful and ungentle to you. 

You are there followed by a faithful shepherd. 

Look upon him, love him. He worships you. 

Phe. Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to 

love. 
Sil. It is to be all made of sighs and tears ; 
95 And so am I for Phebe. 
Phe. And I for Ganymede. 
Orl. And I for Rosalind. 
Bos. And I for no woman. 
Sil. It is to be all made of faith and service; 
ico And so am I for Phebe. 
Phe. And I for Ganymede. 
Orl. And I for Rosalind. 
Bos. And I for no woman. 
Sil. It is to be all made of fantasy. 
los All made of passion, and all made of wishes; 
All adoration, duty, and observance, 
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience, 
All purity, all trial, all observance; 
And so am I for Phebe. 
no Phe. And so am I for Ganymede. 
Orl. And so am I for Rosalind. 
Bos. And so am I for no woman. 
Phe. If this be so, why blame you me to love you? 
Sil. If this be so, why blame you me to love you? 
H5 Orl. If this be so, why blame you me to love you? 
Bos. Why do you speak too, "Why blame you me 

to love you?" 
Orl. To her that is not here, nor doth not hear. 



152 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act V. So. iii. 

Bos. Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the 
howling of Irish wolves against the moon. i2( 
[To Sil] I will help you, if I can. [ To Phe.] 
I would love you, if I could. To-morrow 
meet me all together. [ To Phe.] I will 
marry you, if ever I marry woman, and I'll 
be married to-morrow. [To OrL] I will sat- 121 
isfy you, if ever I satisfied man, and you 
shall be married to-morrow. [ To Sil. ] I will 
content you, if what pleases you contents 
you, and you shall be married to-morrow. 
[To Orl.] As you love Eosalind, meet. i3t 
[ To Sil. ] As you love Phebe, meet. And as 
I love no woman, I'll meet. So, fare you 
well. I have left you commands. 

Sil I'll not fail, if I live. 

Phe. Nor I. iss 

OrL Nor I. ' [Exeunt. 



SCEtfE III. 

The forest. 
Enter Touchstone and Audrey. 

Touch. To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; 

to-morrow will we be married. 
Aud. I do desire it with all my heart ; and I hope 

it is no dishonest desire to desire to be a 






Act V. Sc. iii.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 153 

5 woman of the world. Here come two of the 
banished Duke's pages. 

Enter two Pages. 
First Page. Well met, honest gentlemen. 
Touch. By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, 
and a song. 
10 Sec. Page. We are for you. Sit i' the middle. 
First Page. Shall we clap into 't roundly, without 
hawking or spitting or saying we are hoarse, 
which are the only prologues to a bad voice? 
Sec. Page. V faith, i' faith; and both in a tune, 
i§ like two gipsies on a horse. 

so^G. 
It was a lover and his lass, 

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, 
That o'er the green corn-field did pass 
In the spring time, the only pretty ring 
time, 
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding ; 
Sweet lovers love the spring. 

Between the acres of the rye, 

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, 
These pretty country folks would lie, 

In spring time, &c. 

This carol they began that hour, 

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, 

How that a life was but a flower 
In spring time, &c. 



154 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act V. Sc. iv. 

And therefore take the present time, so 

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino ; 

For love is crowned with the prime 
In spring time, &c. 

Touch. Truly, young gentlemen, though there 
was no great matter in the ditty, yet the note 35 
was very untuneable. 

First Page. You are deceived, sir. We kept 
time, we lost not our time. 

Touch. By my troth, yes; I count it but time 
lost to hear such a foolish song. God buy 40 
you — and God mend your voices! Come, 
Audrey. [Exeunt. 



Scene IV. 

The forest. 

Enter Duke senior, Amiens, Jaques, Orlando, 
Oliver, and Celia. 

Duke 8. Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy 

Can do all this that he hath promised? 
Orl. I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do 
not; 
As those that fear they hope, and know they 
fear. 
Enter Rosalind, 8ilvius, and Phebe. 
Bos. Patience once more, whiles our compact is 5 
urged. 



ActV. Sc. iv.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 155 

You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, 
You will bestow her on Orlando here? 
Duke S. That would I, had I kingdoms to give 

with her. 
Eos, And you say, you will have her, when 1 
bring her. 
10 Orl. That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. 
Eos. You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing? 
Phe. That will I should I die the hour after. 
Eos. But if you do refuse to marry me, 

You'll give yourself to this most faithful 
shepherd? 
15 Phe. So is the bargain. 
Eos. You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she will? 
Sil. Though to have her and death were both one 

thing. 
Eos. I have promised to make all this matter 
even. 
Keep you your word, Duke, to give your 
daughter ; 
20 You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter ; 
Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry 

me, 
Or else refusing me, to wed this shepherd; 
Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry 

her, 
If she refuse me ; and from hence I go, 
25 To make these doubts all even. 

[Exeunt Eosalind mid Celia. 
Duke S. I do remember in this shepherd boy 



156 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act V. Sc. iv. 

Some lively touches of my daughter's favour. 

Orl. My lord, the first time that I ever saw him 
Methought he was a brother to your daughter. 
But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born, 30 
And hath been tutored in the rudiments 
Of many desperate studies by his uncle, 
Whom he reports to be a great magician, 
Obscured in the circle of this forest. 
Enter Touchstone and Audrey. 

Jaq. There is, sure, another flood toward, and 35 
these couples are coming to the ark. Here 
comes a pair of very strange beasts, which in 
all tongues are called fools. 

Touch. Salutation and greeting to you all ! 

Jaq. Good my lord, bid him welcome. This is 40 
the motley-minded gentleman that I have so 
often met in the forest. He hath been a 
courtier, he swears. 

Touch. If any man doubt that, let him put me to 
my purgation. I have trod a measure; 1 45 
have flattered a lady; I have been politic 
with my friend, smooth with mine enemy ; I 
have undone three tailors; I have had four 
quarrels, and like to have fought one. 

Jaq. And how was that ta'en up? 50 

Touch. Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was 
upon the seventh cause. 

Jaq. How seventh cause? Good my lord, like 
this fellow. 

Duice S. I like him very well, 55 



Act V. Sc. iv.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 157 

Touch. God 'ild you, sir ; I desire you of the like. 
I press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the 
country copulatives, to swear and to forswear, 
according as marriage binds and blood breaks. 

60 A poor virgin, sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, 
but mine own. A poor humour of mine, sir, 
to take that that no man else will. Eich 
honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor 
house ; as your pearl in your foul oyster. 

65 Duke 8. By my faith, he is very swift and senten- 
tious. 
Touch. According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such 

dulcet diseases. 
Jaq. But, for the seventh cause, — how did you 

70 find the quarrel on the seventh cause? 

Touch. Upon a lie seven times removed: — bear 
your body more seeming, Audrey — as thus, 
sir. I did dislike the cut of a certain 
courtier's beard. He sent me word, if I said 

75 his beard was not cut well, he was in the 
mind it was: this is called the Eetort 
Courteous. If I sent him word again "it 
was not well cut," he would send me word, 
he cut it to please himself : this is called the 

80 Quip Modest. If again "it was not well 
cut, "he disabled my judgment: this is called 
the Reply Churlish. If again "it was not 
well cut," he would answer, I spake not 
true : this is called the Reproof Valiant. If 

85 again "it was not well cut," he would say, I 



158 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act V. Sc. iv. 

lied : this is called the Countercheck Quarrel- 
some: and so to the Lie Circumstantial and 
the Lie Direct. 

Jaq. And how oft did you say his beard was not 
well cut? 90 

Touch. I durst go no further than the Lie Cir- 
cumstantial, nor he durst not give me the Lie 
Direct; and so we measured swords and 
parted. 

Jaq. Can you nominate in order now the degrees 95 
of the lie? 

Touch. sir, we quarrel in print, by the book, 
as you have books for good manners. I will 
name you the degrees. The first, the Ketort 
Courteous ; the second, the Quip Modest ; the 100 
third, the Reply Churlish; the fourth, the 
Reproof Yaliant; the fifth, the Countercheck 
Quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with Cir- 
cumstance; the seventh, the Lie Direct. All 
these you may avoid but the Lie Direct; andios 
you may avoid that too, with an If. I knew 
when seven justices could not take up a 
quarrel, but when the parties were met 
themselves, one of them thought but of an 
If, as, "If you said so, then I said so"; and no 
they shook hands and swore brothers. Your 
If is the only peace-maker ; much virtue in If. 

Jaq. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? He's as 
good at any thing, and yet a fool. 

Duke 8. He uses his folly like a stalking-horse he 






Act V. Sc. iv.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 159 

and under the presentation of that he shoots 
his wit. 

Enter Hymen, Rosalind, and Celia. 

[Still Music. 
Hym. Then is there mirth in heaven, 
When earthly things made even 
120 Atone together. 

Good Duke, receive thy daughter. 
Hymen from heaven brought her, 

Yea, brought her hither, 
That thou might st join her hand with his 
125 Whose heart within his bosom is. 

Eos. [To the Duke.] To you I give myself, for I 

am yours. 
[To Orl.] To you I give myself, for I am yours. 
Duke 8. If there be truth in sight, you are my 

daughter. 
Orl. If there be truth in sight, you are my 
Eosalind. 
130 Phe. If sight and shape be true, 

Why then, my love adieu ! 
Eos. I'll have no father, if you be not he; 
I'll have no husband, if you be not he; 
Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she. 
135 Hym. Peace, ho ! I bar confusion. 
'Tis I must make conclusion 

Of these most strange events. 
Here's eight that must take hands 
To join in Hymen's bands, 
140 If truth holds true contents. 



160 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act V. Sc. iv. 

You and you no cross shall part ; 

You and you are heart in heart ; 

You to his love must accord, 

Or have a woman to your lord; 

You and you are sure together, 145 

As the winter to foul weather. 

Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing, 

Feed yourselves with questioning; 

That reason wonder may diminish, 

How thus we met, and these things finish. 150 

SONG. 

Wedding is great Juno's crown 
O blessed bond of board and bed! 

"lis Hymen peoples every town ; 
High wedlock then be honoured. 

Honour, high honour, and renown, 155 

To Hymen, god of every town! 

Duke S. my dear niece, welcome thou art to 
me! 
Even daughter, welcome in no less degree. 
Plie. I will not eat my word, now thou art mine ; 
Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. 160 
Enter Jaques de Boys. 
Jaq. de B. Let me have audience for a word or 
two. 
I am the second son of old Sir Eoland, 
That bring these tidings to this fair assembly. 
Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day 



Act V. Sc. iv.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 161 

165 Men of great worth resorted to this forest, 
Addressed a mighty power, which were on foot, 
In his own conduct, purposely to take 
His brother here and put him to the sword ; 
And to the skirts of this wild wood he came, 

170 Where meeting with an old religious man, 

After some question with him, was converted 
Both from his enterprise and from the world ; 
His crown bequeathing to his banished 

brother, 
And all their lands restored to them again 

175 That were with him exiled. This to be true, 
I do engage my life. 
Duke S. Welcome, young man; 

Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding: 
To one his lands withheld; and to the other 
A land itself at large, a potent dukedom. 

iso First, in this forest let us do those ends 

That here were well begun and well begot ; 
And after, every of this happy number, 
That have endured shrewd days and nights 

with us, 
Shall share the good of our returned fortune, 

185 According to the measure of their states. 
Meantime, forget this new-fallen dignity, 
And fall into our rustic revelry. 
Play, music! And you, brides and bride- 
grooms all, 
With measure heaped in joy, to the measures 
fall. 



162 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act V. So. iv. 

Jaq. Sir, by your patience. If I heard youi90 
rightly, 
The Duke hath put on a religious life 
And thrown into neglect the pompous court? 
Jaq. de B. He hath. 
Jaq. To him will I. Out of these convertites 

There is much matter to be heard and 195 
learned. 
[To Duke S.] You to your former honour I 
bequeath ; 
Your patience and your virtue well deserves it : 
[To Orl."] You to a love, that your true faith 

doth merit: 
[To Oli.~\ You to your land, and love, and great 

allies : 
[To SiL] You to a long and well-deserved bed: 200 
[To Touch.] And you to wrangling; for thy 
loving voyage 
Is but for two months victualled. So, to 

your pleasures; 
I am for other than for dancing measures. 
Duke S. Stay, Jaques, stay. 

Jaq. To see no pastime I. What you would have 205 
I'll stay to know at your abandoned cave. 

[Exit. 
Duke 8. Proceed, proceed. We will begin these 
rites, 
As we do trust they'll end, in true delights. 

[A dance. 






AS YOU LIKE IT. 163 



EPILOGUE. 



Bos. It is not the fashion to see the lady the 
epilogue, but it is no more unhandsome than 
to see the lord the prologue. If it be true 
that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true that 

s a good play needs no epilogue : yet to good 
wine they do use good bushes; and good 
plays prove the better by the help of good 
epilogues. What a case am I in then, that 
am neither a good epilogue, nor cannot insin- 

10 uate with you in the behalf of a good play! 
I am not furnished like a beggar, therefore 
to beg will not become me. My way is to 
conjure you, and I'll begin with the women. 
I charge you, women, for the love you bear 

* to men, to like as much of this play as 
please you; and I charge you, men, for 
the love you bear to women,— as I perceive 
by your simpering, none of you hates them— 
that between you and the women the play 

» may please. If I were a woman I would kiss 
as many of you as had beards that pleased 
me, complexions that liked me, and breaths 
that I defied not ; and, I am sure, as many as 
have good beards or good faces or sweet 

* breaths will, for my kind offer, when I make 
curtsy, bid me farewell. [Exeunt. 



NOTES. 



ABBKEVIATIONS. 

Abbott.— E. A. Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar, Lon- 
don, 1879. 

A. S. — Anglo-Saxon. 

Clar. Clarendon Press Series, edited by W. Aldis Wright. 

Fj— First Folio Edition [of Shakspere, 1623. F 2 — Second 
Folio, 1632. 

M. E.— Middle English. 

Schmidt. — Shakespeare-Lexicon, by Alex. Schmidt. 

Var.— Variorum Edition of As You Like It, edited by H. 
H. Furness. 

War. — Warwick Edition of As You Like It, edited by J. C. 
Smith. 

The Title.— The chief suggestions that have been offered 
as to the origin of the name As You Like It, are these: (1) 
that it is from a phrase in Lodge's preface, "If you like it, 
so : and yet I will be yours in duty, if you be mine in favour" ; 
(2) that it was a proverbial motto, the use of which here is 
parallel to the title of Much Ado About Nothing; (3) that it 
expresses the prevailing mood of the play. 

ACT I. 

I. i. In the first scene we have an exposition of the open- 
ing situation, and are informed of the outward circum- 
stances of nearly all the main characters. In the case of 
Orlando, something more is done, for we get an indica- 
tion of the spirit in which he takes his fortunes, and the 
action, so far as it concerns him, is set a-going. 

I. i. 1-2. The Folio reads thus : "It was upon this fashion 
164 



NOTES. 165 

bequeathed me by will." Though the general meaning is 
clear, the grammar is difficult, since charged (1. 4) has no 
subject, and it would be awkward to understand "it was," 
parallel to it was bequeathed above. The simplest emendation 
is to punctuate as in the text, and understand "he" (i.e., my 
father) before bequeathed. 

I. i. 2-3. But poor a thousand. This transposition of 
adjective and article is most probably to be regarded as par- 
allel to such idioms as "so great a danger," "how honest a 
man." Cf. Abbott, §§ 85, 422. 
• I. i. 4. On his blessing. At the risk of losing his blessing. 

I. i. 6. From the age of Jaques, "university" must be 
meant. Cf. Hamlet, I. ii. 113, "Going back to school in 
Wittenberg." For the pronunciation of Jaques, cf. II. i. 26, 
note. 

Manage. The training of a horse. 

Countenance. Behavior, treatment. Cf. II. vii. 

Hinds. Farm-servants. Bars me. Shuts me out 

Mines. Undermines. 

Make. The word is used by Oliver in the sense 
Orlando puns on it in the sense of "produce." 
Marry. A corruption of the oath "By Mary" 
(the Virgin) . There is also a pun on mar. 

I. i. 40-41. Be naught. A petty curse, like "Go to the mis- 
chief," or "Devil take you." "But Oliver also plays on the 
literal meaning — 'Better be nothing than be marring your- 
self.'" [War.] 

I. i. 42. The reference is, of course, to the parable of the 
Prodigal Son, Luke xv. 

I. i. 43. Prodigal. Schmidt takes this as meaning merely 
"ample," "abundant." Clar. and others take the phrase to 
mean, "What portion have I prodigally spent?" and compare 
II. iii. 39, "the thrifty hire I saved," for "the hire I saved by 
thrift. " Furness suggests that the phrase should be "prodi- 
gal-portion" = "prodigal's portion"; and, taking into ac- 
count the reference in the preceding line, this seems most 
probable. 

I. i. 48. Him. For him = "he whom," cf. Abbott, §208. 



I. i. 


14. 


Li. 


20. 


108. 




I. i. 


22. 


from. 




I. i. 


23. 


I. i. 


33. 


of "do." 


I. i. 


37, 



166 NOTES. 

I. i. 50. In the gentle condition of blood. Gentle (= of good 
family) logically goes with blood. "After the fashion of 
well-born brothers." 

I. i. 51. Courtesy of nations. The law of nations in matters 
of precedence, i.e., here, the law of primogeniture. 

I. i. 57. Is nearer to his reverence. Gives you a better title to 
the respect owed to him. The tone or gesture with which 
these words are uttered is more probably the cause of 
Oliver's burst of passion which immediately follows than 
any subtle significance in the words themselves. 

I. i. 59-60. Too young in this. Not enough my superior in 
strength, whatever you may be in years. Cf. Lodge's 
Rosalynde, where Saladyne (= Oliver) says, "Though I am 
eldest by birth, yet never having attempted any deeds of 
arms, I am youngest to perform any martial exploits." 

I. i. 61. Thou. Note that at this point, when they have 
almost come to blows, the contemptuous "thou" is used by 
both, instead of "you." 

I. i. 65. Villains. There may be a play here on the mod- 
ern sense of this word and the older one of "low born." 

I. i. 80. Allottery. Portion allotted. 

I. i. 92. Spoke. Cf. Introduction, p. 42, 4, (b). 

I. i. 94. Grow upon. "Encroach." (Clar.) "Orlando is 
growing too big on his hands to be treated any longer like a 
boy." (Furness.) 

I. i. 95. Bankness. Strong, rapid growth; hence, in- 
solence. 

I. i. 95-96. No . . . neither. Cf. Introduction, p. 42, 5, (a). 

I. i. 107 ff . It is clear that this speech is put into the 
mouth of Charles for the instruction of the audience rather 
than of Oliver. 

With the implication throughout this passage that the 
banishment of the old Duke is recent, cf . the indication of a 
long time in I. iii. 70-77. 

I. i. 124-25. Forest of Arden. Shakspere took the name 
from Lodge, who meant Ardennes in France. That there 
was a forest of Arden in Warwickshire need not be regarded 
as more than a coincidence ; and in placing in it beasts and 
plants foreign to France, Shakspere was only availing him- 
self of poetic license in his accustomed fashion. 



NOTES. 167 

I. i. 125. A many merry men. Cf. King John, IV. ii. 199, 
"A many thousand warlike French." This "a" was fre- 
quent before numerals. Cf . Abbott § 87. 

I. i. 128. Fleet. Elsewhere in Shakspere, as in other 
writers, this verb is intransitive. 

I. i. 129. The golden world. The mythical golden age, 
when, under the government of Saturn, men, without laws, 
lived in innocence and justice, the earth produced abundance 
without cultivation, and the season was perpetual spring. 
See Ovid's Metamorphoses, I. 89 ff. 

I. i. 130. What. Merely an exclamation. 

I. i. 132. Marry. Cf. I. i. 37. 

I. i. 144. Withal. With it. But it is often only an em- 
phatic "with," especially at the end of a sentence; cf. 
I. ii. 29. 

I. i. 145. Intendment. Intention. 

I. i. 152. Underhand. Secret, indirect (without any evil 
implication). 

I. i. 154. It. The use of the neuter here is contemptuous. 
But cf . III. v. 110. 

I. i. 157. Contriver. Plotter. Cf. IV. iii. 137. 

I. i. 160. Thou wert best. The original form of the idiom 
is found in "You were best"= [To] you [it] were best, 
where "you" is a dative. But in farm "you" might also be 
nominative, and through this confusion arose constructions 
like that in the text. Cf . 1 Henry VI., V. iii. 82, "I were best 
to leave him." 

I. i. 162-63. Grace himself on thee. Do himself honor through 
overcoming you. 

I. i. 163. Practise. Plot. Cf . contriver, 1. 157 above. 

I. i. 170. Anatomize. Dissect, lay bare. 

I. i. 179. Gamester. The modern sense of "gambler" is, of 
course, absent, yet the context makes it probable that to the 
usual interpretation of "lively fellow" has to be added the 
idea of Orlando's eagerness to enter the wrestling contest. 

I. i. 181. He. For this use of nominative for objective, 
cf. Introduction, p. 41, 3, (a). 

I. i. 183. Noble device. High ideals. Sorts. Ranks. 

I. i. 187. Misprised. Underestimated. Cf. I. ii. 196. 
I. i. 189. Kindle. Induce to go, incite. 



168 NOTES. 

I. i. 190. Go about. Take in hand, attempt. 

I. ii. In the second scene we are introduced to the heroine, 
and the love plot is begun. 

I. ii. 1. Sweet my coz. My sweet cousin. Cf. III. ii. 200, 
V. iv. 40, and similar phrases, where the possessive has be- 
come so closely associated with the noun, that the adjective 
is forced out of its regular position. 

I. ii. 4. I were merrier. I is omitted in the folio, and was 
first inserted by Rowe. 

I. ii. 6. Learn. Teach. This usage, still common in some 
localities, is frequent in Elizabethan English, and occurs as 
early as the 13th century. 

I. ii. 11. So. Provided that. 

I. ii. 14, 15. So righteously tempered. As perfect. "To 
temper" properly means "to mix," then "to bring to a cer- 
tain state by mixing." 

I. ii. 18. But I. Cf. Introduction, p. 41-43, (a). 

I. ii. 27. "Note the dramatic irony of the proposed 'sport.' 
Before the scene is over she is in love in earnest." (War.) 

I. ii. 29. Withal. With. Cf. I. i. 144, note. 

I. ii. 30-31. Nor no . . . neither. Cf. Introduction, p.42-45, (a). 

I. ii. 35, 36. Housewife Fortune. Dame Fortune ; used famil- 
iarly. 

I. ii. 36. Wheel. The wheel on which Fortune was usually 
represented as standing blindfolded symbolized her incon- 
stancy, out of which Celia proposed to chaff her. 

I. ii. 43. Honest. Virtuous. Cf. III. iii. 19, 27 ff. ; V. iii. 4. 

I. ii. 44. m-favouredly. Ugly. Some editors read "ill 
favoured" in accordance with the modern idiom. Cf. In- 
troduction, p. 43, 5,(b). 

I. ii. 48. No? This mark of interrogation is due to 
Hanmer. Celia questions the negative in the end of Rosa- 
lind's speech. 

I. ii. 54. Natural. Idiot : still so used in Scotland. Shaks- 
pere, of course, does not mean that Touchstone is actually 
an idiot, but the sense is near enough to be forced for the 
sake of a pun. 

I. ii. 57. Perceiving. SoF 2 . F 1 has "perceiveth" which re- 
quires the insertion of "and" before hath sent. Either emen- 
dation is sufficient. 



NOTES. 169 

I. ii. 71. Naught. Worthless. Cf. III. ii. 15. 

I. ii. 92. Celia. The folio gives this speech to Rosalind, 
but Theobald changed it because Frederick is the name of 
the usurping Duke. 

I. ii. 94. Taxation. Satire. Cf. II. vii. 71. 

I. ii. 98. Wit . . . silenced. This has been taken as a pos- 
sible topical allusion to some recent interference with actors 
(Clar.) or to the "burning of satirical books by public author- 
ity, 1st June, 1599. " (Fleay, quoted in Var.) 

I. ii. 111. Colour. Kind. Perhaps the suggestion is right 
that Celia is poking fun at Le Beau's pronunciation of 
sport, which she pretends to take for "spot." 

I. ii. 115. Destinies decree. Fi reads "decrees," probably 
only as a printer's error for "decree." Other possibilities 
are that Destinies is a possessive, and that the whole phrase 
is parallel to will and fortune, or that it is a case of a plural 
subject with a singular verb, for which cf. Introduction, 
p. 42,4, (a). 

I. ii. 116. With a trowel. With more vigor than delicacy. 

I. ii. 117. Bank. For Rosalind's pun, cf. Cymbeline, II. i. 
17-8: 

Clo. Would he had been one of my rank ! 
Sec. Lord. [Aside.] To have smelt like a fool. 

I. ii. 119. Amaze. Perplex, rather than "astonish." 

I. ii. 128. Comes. A singular verb is common with a 
plural subject in Shakspere when the verb precedes the 
noun. Cf. Abbott, § 335, and Introduction, p. 42, 4, (a). 

I. ii. 132. Proper. Handsome. 

I. ii. 134. With bills ontheir necks. Farmer gives these words 
to Le Beau. This gives us a double pun. Le Beau would 
use bills in the sense of the weapon, (Cf. Lodge, "Rosader 
came pacing towards them with his forest-bill on his neck," 
p. 362 of Var.) and Rosalind puns on it in the sense of the 
legal document which conventionally began, Be it known, etc., 
and gets in another pun on presence and presents. 

I. ii. 137. Which Charles. " Which being [originally] an 
adjective frequently accompanies the repeated antecedent, 
where definiteness is desired, or where care must be taken 
to select the right antecedent" (Abbott, §269). 



170 NOTES. 

I. ii. 142. Dole. Grieving. 

I. ii. 154. Broken music. Music played by a set of different 
instruments, as opposed to "concert music" played by a set 
of the same instruments. There is, of course, a pun. 

I. ii. 162. Stage direction. Flourish. I.e., of trumpets. 

I. ii. 163. His . . . forwardness. Let the danger he incurs 
through his obstinacy be on his own head. 

I. ii. 166. Successfully. As if he might be successful. Cf . 
Introduction, p. 43, 5, (b). 

I. ii. 172. Odds in the man. Superiority on the side of 
Charles. But many editors read "men" and take odds in the 
sense of "inequality." 

I. ii. 196. Misprised. Undervalued. Cf. I. i. 187. 

I. ii. 200. Wherein. The antecedent is omitted. Supply 
"for this (offence)." 

I. ii. 205. Gracious. Favored. 

I. ii. 209. Only. Transposed for emphasis from before 
fill- Cf . V. iii. 13. 

I. ii. 228. Ways. Originally an adverbial genitive, = "on 
your way," not a plural. Cf. II. iii. 66, and IV. i. 190. 

I. ii. 229. Be thy speed. Give thee success. Speed orig- 
inally meant "success," but in this and similar passages it is 
used as if = "promoter of success." Cf. Two Gentlemen 
of Verona, III. i. 301, "Saint Nicholas be thy speed" ; Romeo 
and Juliet, V. iii. 121, "Saint Francis be my speed," etc. 

I. ii. 234. Should down. Cf. Introduction, p. 42, 4, (c). 

1. ii. 237. Breathed. Exercised. 

I. ii. 246. Still. Always. 

I. ii. 253. His youngest son. The sentence is unfinished. 
Calling. Name. 

I. ii. 257. His son. To be his son. 

I. ii. 258. Unto. In addition to. 

I. ii. 261. Envious. Malignant. This use is commoner in 
Shaksperean English than the modern one exemplified in 
I. i. 156. 

I. ii. 262. Sticks.- Stabs. 

I. ii. 264. This line is awkward in meter as well as in ex- 
pression. Capell and others omit "all." Abbott scans it 
thus: 

But just | ly as 1 you have | exceed' | all pro | mise; 



NOTES. 171 

Koni'g (quoted by War.) thus: 
But just J ly as | you've ex | ceeded [ all pro [ mise. 

I. ii. 266. Out of suits with fortune. No longer in fortune's 
suite or service. There may be a play on suit = livery, and 
suit = favor sued for. Cf . II. vii. 44, note. 

I. ii. 267. Could. I.e., as far as good will goes. 

I. ii. 271. Quintain. A wooden dummy used for practice 
in tilting. 

I. ii. 276. Have with you. Come along. 

I. ii. 284. Condition. Mood. 

I. ii. 286. Humorous. Subject to moods (induced, accord- 
ing to the old physiology, by the predominance of one of the 
four "humors," the mixture of which determined a man's 
temperament) . 

I. ii. 287. Than I. Cf. Introduction, p. 41, 3, (a) and line 
18, above. 

I. ii. 292. Taller. This seems to be a slip. Cf. I. iii. 116, 
and IV. iii. 90. It has been proposed to read "shorter," 
"smaller," "lower," "less taller," "lesser." See Var. 

I. ii. 299. Argument. Reason, grounds. 

I. ii. 303. Suddenly. Soon. Cf. II. ii. 19, II. iv. 102. 

I. ii. 304. A better world. Better days. 

I. ii. 307. From the smoke into the smother. "Out of the 
frying pan into the fire," (Clar.). Smother means "suffocating 
smoke." 

I. iii. The first part of the scene (1-39) emphasizes the 
growing passion of Rosalind, so that we expect it to be a 
main element in the plot ; the second part (39-90) advances 
the action through the sentence of banishment for which Le 
Beau's speech in the end of Scene ii. prepared us ; the third 
part (91-139) arranges for the transference of the action to 
the forest of Arden. 

I. iii. 17. Coat. Petticoat, as still in Scotland. 

I. iii. 25-26. A good wish upon you! etc. Blessings on you! 
You will try to wrestle with your affections sometime, 
though they master you at first. 

I. iii. 33. Chase. Inference, following of the argument. 

I. iii. 35. Dearly. Intensely. Dear is used in Shakspere 
of anything, good or bad, that comes home to one intimately. 
Cf. Hamlet, I. ii. 182, "My dearest foe." 



172 NOTES. 

I. iii. 37. Deserve well. Celia, of course, means "deserve 
hatred well," but Rosalind takes advantage of the omission 
of the object to answer in the opposite sense. 

I. iii. 42. Safest haste. I.e., The greater haste you make, 
the safer you will be. 

I. iii. 43. Cousin. Used for niece or any near relation out- 
side of one's immediate family. 

I. iii. 54. Purgation. Proof of innocence. 

I. iii. 63. Friends. Relations. 

I. iii. 65. Good my liege. Of. I. ii. 1, note. 

I. iii. 68. Celia. A trisyllable. 

I. iii. 71. Remorse. Pity. 

I. iii. 72 ff. Cf. I. i. 107, note. 

I. iii. 74. Still. Cf. I. ii. 246, note; I. iii. 77. 

I. iii. 76. Juno's swans. Clar. points out that it was to 
Venus, not Juno, that the swan was sacred. 

I. iii. 79. Patience. Cf. Introduction, p. 40, 7. 

I. iii. 82. Show. Appear. 

I. iii. 98. Thou and I am. Cf. Introduction, p. 42, 4, (a). 

I. iii. 103. Change. I.e., of fortune. But the later folios 
read "charge," the meaning of which would be explained by 
the next line. 

I. iii. 117. All points. In all respects. 

I. iii. 118. Curtle-axe. A corruption of "cutlass," a short 
sword. Neither the word nor the thing has originally any 
connection with axe. 

I. iii. 123. It. The indefinite use. Cf . V. ii. 72. 

I. iii. 129. Aliena. From the Latin word meaning 
"stramger." 

I. iii. 139. In Lodge's novel, the Duke banishes his 
daughter also, in anger at her importunity on behalf of 
Rosalind. 

ACT II. 

II. i. In the first act the dramatist introduced the hero 
and heroine, represented the beginning of their passion, 
and, through Rosalind's banishment, their apparently com- 
plete separation. In the second, he prepares the way for 
their coming together again in the Forest of Arden. 

II. i. 1. Exile. The accent on this word in Shakspere may 
be on either syllable. 



NOTES. 173 

II. i. 5. Here feel we but the penalty of Adam. The Folios 
read "not" for but. Editors who retain this interpret the 
penalty of Adamas labor (Gen. III. 17, "In the sweat of thy 
face shalt thou eat bread"), and put a semicolon or period 
after Adam. Theobald, followed by many modern editors, 
changed "not" to but, understanding the season's difference to 
be the penalty of Adam, and assuming a confusion (made also 
by Milton) of the Scripture account of the Pall with Ovid's 
account of the change in climate after the passing away of 
the Golden Age. (Cf. note on I. i. 129, above). There is 
possibly some further corruption of the text, for the lines 
immediately following are confused in grammar. 

II. i. 6. As. "Here used in the sense of 'to wit,' 'namely.'" 
(Var.) 

II. i. 8. Which. Usually explained as = "as to which." 
But it is clearly a case of anacolouthon or change of con- 
struction. 

II. i. 13. Venomous. The popular but mistaken belief that 
the toad is poisonous is very old. 

II. i. 14. Jewel. The toad-stone which was supposed to be 
found in the head of the toad was taken as a medicine or 
worn as an amulet against poisons. 

II. i. 18. I would not change it. Many editors give this to 
the Duke. But no emendation is necessary, and the Duke 
does "change it" at the end of the play. 

II. i. 22. Fools. Often used in affection or pity. Cf. line 
40, below, and King Lear, V. iii. 305, "And my poor fool is 
hanged," referring to Cordelia. 

II. i. 23. Burghers. Citizens. 

II. i. 24. Forked heads. Strictly, a "forked arrow," as dis- 
tinguished from a barbed arrow, was one with a double 
point, like a swallow's tail. Here, however, probably arrows 
in general are meant. 

II. i. 26. The melancholy JaquesJ. There has been much dis- 
cussion on the pronunciation of this name. The present 
line, which is the only one in the play where the evidence 
of the metre is clear, requires a dissyllabic pronunciation 
(Ja-ques) } and may be accepted as giving the rule for the 
play as a whole. 

II. i. 33. Sequestered. Separated from his kind. 



174 NOTES. 

II. i. 46. For metre, cf. Introduction, p. 38, 2. 

II. i. 52. Flux. Flow, current. 

II. i. 58. Invectively. With bitter satire. 

II. i. 62. Up. For this intensive use of up with the sense 
of "completely," cf. phrases such as "burn up," "wind up," 
etc. 

II. i. 67. Cope. Encounter. The word is now no longer 
transitive, but requires "with." 

II. i. 68. Matter. Material for thought, ideas. 

II. ii. Besides preparing us for the banishment of Oliver, 
this short scene affords a striking contrast between the 
moods of the two Dukes and their respective surround- 
ings. 

II. ii. 3. Are of consent and sufferance. Have been accom- 
plices. 

II. ii. 8. Roynish. Literally, "scurvy," but used vaguely 
in contempt. The reading "roguish" has been suggested. 

II. ii. 17. His brother. The emendation of Capell, "his 
brother's," while not absolutely necessary, avoids the con- 
fused repetition in the next line. Gallant refers to Orlando. 

II. ii. 19. Suddenly. Quickly. Cf . I. ii. 303, II. iv. 102. 

II. ii. 20. Quail. Flag, fail through slackness. 

II. iii. 4. Make. Cf. I. i. 33, note. 

II. iii. 7. Fond. Foolishly eager. 

II. iii. 8. Bonny. The usual meaning of "bonny" is not 
appropriate here, and Schmidt and others give it the mean- 
ing of "stout," "strong." But this meaning does not seem 
to be found elsewhere, and Warburton's emendation "bony" 
has been widely accepted. Priser. Wrestler. Cf. Fr. etre 
aux prises, to grapple, struggle. Humorous. Cf. I. ii. 286, 
note. 

II. iii. 12. No more do yours. Your graces do no more for 
you. 

II. iii. 26. Practices. Plots. Cf. I. i. 163. 

II. iii. 27. This is no place. This is explained as "no fit 
place," or, "no dwelling place." But it might be used to-day 
to express contempt or abhorrence, without so definite an 
idea as these explanations imply. 

II. iii. 37. Diverted. Turned aside from its natural channel. 

II. iii. 39. Thrifty hire. Wages saved by thrift. Cf. I. i. 43. 



NOTES. 175 

II. iii. 42. Unregarded age. Supply "should be," to parallel 
the construction in the previous line. 

II. iii. 43-44. Cf . Job xxxviii. 41 ; Psalms cxlvii. 9 ; Mat- 
thew x. 29; Luke xii. 6 and 24. 

II. iii. 50. Nor did not. Cf. Introduction, p. 42, 5, (a). 

II. iii. 58. Sweat. Abbott (§ 341) gives this as an instance 
of a word ending in ' 't' ' instead of "ted' ' for euphony. It may 
be from the preterite "swette" found in M. E. 

II. iii. 61-62. Promotion puts an end to the service which 
earned it. 

II. iii. 65. In lieu of. Properly, "in the place of," but 
used by Shakspere for "in return for." 

II. iii. 66. Ways. Cf . I. ii. 228, note, and IV. i. 190. 

II. iii. 68. Low content. Humble situation in which we 
may be contented. 

II. iv. This scene" slightly advances the main action as 
regards the heroine, and introduces the underplot of Phebe 
and Silvius. 

II. iv. 1. Wea?~y. The Folios read "merry," and this is 
defended by Furness and others who take Rosalind's second 
speech, except the last three words, as an aside, and sup- 
pose her to be assuming good spirits to support Celia. But 
weary seems to suit better both Touchstone's retort and 
Rosalind's confession. 

II. iv. 6-7. Doublet and hose. The male costume of the 
time, corresponding to coat and trousers. Contrast the 
modern sense of hose. 

II. iv. 9. Cannot go no. Cf. Introduction, p. 42, 5, (a). 

II. iv. 12. Cross. Touchstone puns on the use of the word 
in Matthew x., 38, "He that taketh not his cross," and its 
use as the name of an Elizabethan coin which had a cross 
stamped on one side. 

II. iv. 31. Fantasy. Common in Elizabethan English in 
the sense of "love." The shorter form, "fancy," is also so 
used. Cf. III. v. 29; V. iv. 160. 

II. iv. 36. For metre cf . Introduction, p. 39, 4. 

II. iv. 38. Wearing. The later folios have "wearying," 
with the same meaning. 

II. iv. 40. Broke. Cf. Introduction, p. 42, 4, (b), and Ab- 
bott, §343. 



176 NOTES. 

II. iv. 44. Searching of. Two constructions seem to be 
confused here: searching, as a participle, which would not 
require the of; and searching as a verbal noun, which would 
require "in" before it. Cf. hearing, II. vii. 4, for a similar 
confusion; and kissing and wooing in lines 49 and 52, below, 
for the correct modern construction. 

II. iv. 50. The first Folio has "batler." Both words 
denote an instrument with which washerwomen beat 
clothes. 

II. iv. 51. Chopt. Another form of "chapped." 

II. iv. 52. Peascod. Pea-pod. The choice of this particu- 
lar thing- seems to have been suggested by the practice 
according to which pea-pods were used for divination. A 
rustic maiden would place a pod with nine peas over the 
door, believing that the first man who entered was to be her 
husband. 

II. iv. 52-55. From whom . . . sake. The passage is obscure. 
If whom and her refer to Jane Smile, then these clauses 
do not describe "the wooing of a peascod instead of her." 
Some editors take whom and her, to refer to peascod, and, to 
make this fit better, interpret it as referring to the whole 
plant. But there seems to be no authority for this sense. 
Touchstone must not be expected to be very coherent. 
Weeping tears. Active for passive participle. The phrase is 
so common in Elizabethan English that it is unlikely that 
Shakspere meant it to be so ridiculous as it sounds to 
modern ears. 

II. iv. 57-58. Mortal in folly. "Exceedingly foolish, " is the 
usual explanation, as if = "mortal foolish," the form in the 
text being used to preserve the epigrammatic balance of the 
sentence. Schmidt suggests the interpretation, "human in 
folly." 

II. iv. 68. Clown. Touchstone of course uses the word in 
the sense of "rustic." Rosalind puns on the meaning of 
"jester." 

II. iv. 81. Do not shear, etc. Do not get the wool from the 
sheep that I feed. 

II. iv. 82. Churlish. Originally "rustic" then "discourte- 
ous," then "ungenerous," as here. 

II. iv. 85. Cote. Cottage, not "sheep-fold," as is proved 



NOTES. 177 

by line 94, below, and III. ii. 449. Bounds of feed. Extent 
of pasturage. 

II. iv. 89. In my voice. So far as my authority goes. 
[ II. iv. 90. What. Who. 

II. iv. 93. Stand with honesty. Be consistent with honor- 
able dealing (towards Silvius) . 

II. iv. 97. Waste. Spend. 

II. iv. 101. Feeder. Shepherd. 

II. v. This scene does nothing to advance the action, and 
serves chiefly to introduce Jaques. It is entirely of Shak- 
spere's invention. 

II. v. 3. Turn. Tune, modulate. 

II. v. 19. Stanzo. An obsolete form of "stanza." 

II. v. 21. Names. It is suggested that there is a reference 
here to the Elizabethan use of "nomina" as "the names of 
the debts owed. " 

II. v. 29. Beggarly. Not "mean," but simply "like a beg- 
gar's." 

II. v. 31. Cover. Spread the table. 

II. v. 33. Look you. For the omission of "for," cf. Henry 
V., IV. vii. 76, "To look our dead," and cf. Introduction, p. 
43,6, (b). 

II. v. 35. Disputable. Disputatious. 

II. v. 47. Note. Tune. 

II. v. 48. In despite of my invention. In spite, or scorn, of 
my (lack of) poetical powers. 

II. v. 55. Ducdame. Probably a nonsensical refrain, 
the explanation of which by Jaques is merely quizzical. 

II. v. 62. First-born of Egypt. The reference is presumably 
to Exodus xi. 5. Its appropriateness, if it has any, has not 
been satisfactorily explained. Johnson is usually quoted as 
saying that it is "a proverbial expression for high-born per- 
sons." 

II. vi. In Lodge's novel it is Adam that comforts Rosader. 
"Hunger growing on so extreme, Adam Spencer (being 
old) began first to faint, and sitting him down on a hill, and 
looking about him, espied where Rosader lay as feeble and 
as ill-perplexed : which sight made him shed tears, and to 
fall into these bitter terms . . . As he was ready to go for- 
ward in his passion, he looked earnestly on Rosader, and 



178 NOTES. 

seeing- him change colour, he rose up and went to him, and 
holding his temples, said, 'What cheer, master? Though all 
fail, let not the heart faint : the courage of a man is showed 
in the resolution of his death.' " It is only when Adam pro- 
poses to open his own veins to relieve him that Rosader, 
"full of courage (though very faint) rose up, and wished 
Adam Spencer to sit there till his return : 'for my mind 
gives me,' quoth he, 'I shall bring thee meat.' With that, 
like a mad man he rose up, and ranged up and down the 
woods, seeking to encounter some wild beast with his rapier, 
that either he might carry his friend Adam food, or else 
pledge his life in pawn of his loyalty." (pp. 342-43 of Var.) 

The significance of Shakspere's change need not be pointed 
out. 

II. vi. 6. Uncouth. Unknown, strange. 

II. vi. 7. Savage. Wild. Literally, 2 "belonging to the 
woods," not necessarily "fierce." 

II. vi. 8. Conceit. Thought, fancy. 

II. vi. 10. Comfortable. "Usually explained as passive, 
but the word is always active elsewhere in Shakspere." 
(War.) 

II. vi. 11. Presently. Immediately. 

II. vi. 15. Well said! Well done! It is often so used in 
Shakspere when nothing has been said. Cf. Romeo and 
Juliet, I. v. 88, "Well said, my hearts," where Capulet is com- 
mending the dancing. Here it seems to refer to some effort 
made by Adam to look courageous.. 

II. vii. The first part of this scene serves to give Orlando 
time to find his way to the Duke's party, and is entirely 
Shakspere's invention. But its chief purpose is to elab- 
orate the background by unfolding further the characters 
of Jaques and Duke senior. 

The second part, after the entry of Orlando, is from Lodge, 
and helps on the action by establishing Orlando in the 
forest. 

II. vii. 1. I think he be. For the uncertainty implied in 
the use of the subjunctive, cf. Othello, III. iii. 384, "I think 
my wife be honest, and think she is not." 

II. vii. 4. Hearing of. Cf . II. iv. 44, note. 

II. vii. 5. Compact of jars. Composed of discords. Cf. 



NOTES. 179 

Midsummer Night's Dream, V. i. 7-8, "The lunatic, the 
lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact." 

II. vii. 6. Spheres. According- to the Ptolemaic system, 
which was still commonly held in Shakspere's time, the 
earth is the centre round which revolve eight concentric 
spheres, in which are fixed the sun, moon, the five then 
known planets, and the fixed stars. Each sphere in its 
motion gives forth a note, and the harmony of the eight 
notes is the "music of the spheres," inaudible to gross 
human ears. Cf. Merchant of Venice, V. i. 60: 

There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st 
But in his motion like an angel sings 
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. 

II. vii. 13. Motley. Referring to the parti-coloured cos- 
tume of the professional jester. 

II. vii. 19. The reference is to the proverb, "Fortune 
favors fools." 

II. vii. 20. Dial. A pocket-dial or a watch. The word 
was used of any instrument marked with hours for telling 
the time. Poke. A large pouch was a regular part of a 
jester's equipment. 

II. vii. 29. Moral. Usually taken as = "moralize." But 
Schmidt and Furness prefer to regard it as an adjective. 

II. vii. 32. Sans. In Shakspere's time this word was 
"actually adopted for a time as an English word." (Clar.) 
Cf. line 166, below. 

II. vii. 34. Wear. Costume. 

II. vii. 39. Dry. "In the physiology of Shakspere's time, 
a dry brain accompanied slowness of apprehension and a 
retentive memory." (Clar.) 

II. vii. 41. Observation. See Introduction, p. 40, 7. 

II. vii. 44. Suit. Probably a pun on the two meanings of 
"costume'? and "request." Cf. I. ii. 266, note. 

II. vii. 55. [Not to] . These words are not found in the 
Folios, but were supplied by Theobald. They improve the 
sense and complete the verse, which otherwise is defective. 
Bob. A smart blow, a taunt. 

II. vii. 56. Anatomized. Dissected and exposed. Cf. I. i. 
170. 



180 NOTES. 

II. vii. 57. Squandering glances. Hits made at random. 

II. vii. 63. Counter. A trifling- wager. A counter was a 
round piece of metal of little or no intrinsic value, used for 
reckoning. 

II. vii. 65-69. Note the significance of this description of 
the past life of Jaques in accounting for his present char- 
acter. In the next speech Jaques fails to meet the Duke's 
point. The Duke has pointed out that such satire as 
Jaques purposes would corrupt people and Jaques argues 
that if it were general, no individual would have a right 
to resent it. 

II. vii. 66. Brutish sting. Animal impulse. 

II. vii. 67. Embossed. Swollen. Headed evils. Sores grown 
to a head. 

II. vii. 71. Tax. Accuse. Cf. I. ii. 94, and II. vii. 86. 
The g-eneral sense of the passage is, "Why, how can a man 
who speaks against pride in general, be regarded as attack- 
ing anyone in particular? Is it not excessively common 
all around, exhausting the means of those who harbour 
it?" 

II. vii. 73. Wearer's. The Folios read "weary." The 
emendation is due to Singer. 

II. vii. 75. City-woman. Citizen's wife. Satire of tha 
extravagant aping of court fashions by the wives of city 
tradesmen was very common in Shakspere's time. 

II. vii. 76. Cost of princes. Clar. compares 2 Henry VI., I. 
iii. 83, "She bears a duke's revenues on her back." 

II. vii. 79. Function. Occupation. 

II. vii. 80. That says his finery is not bought at my 
expense. 

II. vii. 82. Mettle. Spirit, nature. He who gives the 
answer in line 80, implies that he is guilty of the kind of 
folly attacked. 

II. vii. 84. Bight. Justice. 

II. vii. 85. Free. Conscience-clear. 

II. vii. 86. Taxing. Cf . II. vii. 71, note. 

II. vii. 88. Eat. This form of the past participle occurs 
elsewhere in Shakspere. 

II. vii. 90. Of . . . of. Cf. Introduction, p. 43, 6, and 
Abbott, §407. 



NOTES. 181 

II. vii. 93, 96. Civility. Courtesy, in a higher degree than 
the present use implies. Cf. "civil sayings," III. ii. 131. 

II. vii. 94. Vein. Humour. Your first question hit the 
truth as to my disposition. 

II. vii. 96. Inland bred. Bred in a civilized district, as 
opposed to an outlandish one. For metre, cf. Introduction, 
p. 39, 5. 

II. vii. 97. Nurture. Cultivation, breeding. 

II. vii. 100. An. If. 

II. vii. 108. Countenance. Cf. I. i. 20, note. 

II. vii. 118. Let gentleness strongly support my re- 
quest. 

II. vii. 125. Upon command. At your own order. 

II. vii. 128. Whiles. Adverbial genitive of while. It 
survives in modern English with an additional "t" in 
"whilst." 

II. vii. 132. Weak evils. Evils causing weakness. 

II. vii. 139. Wherein . . in. See Introduction, p. 43, 6. 

II. vii. 139 ff. With regard^ to this, the most famous 
speech in the play, it is to be remembered that the com- 
parison of life to a stage was long familiar before Shak- 
spere used it, that its technical purpose here is to fill in the 
gap of Orlando's absence, and that it is spoken by Jaques, 
who is not at all the kind of character into whose mouth 
Shakspere would be likely to put his own view of life. 
This is the more important since the description of the 
seven ages is made with Jaques's characteristic sneer at 
human nature. 

II. vii. 143. Seven ages. For earlier examples of similar 
divisions of the life of man, see Var. pp. 122-24. "The merit 
of Shakespeare is not that he invented this distribution, but 
that he has exhibited it more brilliantly, more impres- 
sively, than had ever been done before." (Hunter, quoted 
in Var.) 

II. vii. 148. Ballad. This word was used of almost any 
kind of short poem. 

II. vii. 150. Strange oaths. The affectation of foreign 
oaths by the soldier who had been abroad is often satirized 
in the drama of this time, e.g., Bobadil, in Ben Jonson's 
Every Man in His Humour. 



182 NOTES. 

II. vii. 151. Sudden. Rash, hasty. The comma after this 
word is important, as indicating that it stands as a separate 
idea, and is not to be taken with in quarrel as a mere doublet 
of quick. 

II. vii. 154. Capon. Hales points out that there is a def- 
inite satirical allusion here. "It was the custom to pre- 
sent magistrates with presents, especially, it would seem, 
with capons, by way of securing their good will and favour." 
(Quoted in Var., p. 126, which see for corroborative evi- 
dence.) Lined. Pilled, stuffed. It is used by Shakspere 
in the modern sense also. 

II. vii. 155. Formal cut. As opposed to the fierce shaggi- 
ness of the soldier's. 

II. vii. 156. Saws. Maxims. Modern. Commonplace, trite, 
every -day. Cf. All's Well, II. iii. 1-3. "We have our phil- 
osophical persons, to make modern and familiar, things 
supernatural and causeless." Instances. This word is used 
by Shakspere in a variety of senses, among which are (1) 
proof ; (2) example, precedent ; (3) proverb. Schmidt and 
Var. prefer (3) ; but (2) also gives good sense here. For 
(1) cf. III. ii. 56. 

II. vii. 158. Pantaloon. The pantaloon was a stock char- 
acter in Italian comedy, in which he was represented as a 
foolish old dotard. 

II. vii. 163. His. The old neuter possessive. "Its" did not 
come into general use until the second half of the seven- 
teenth century. 

II. vii. 166. Sans. Cf . line 32 and note, above. 

II. vii. 175. Unkind. Literally, "unnatural"; but the 
modern sense seems equally good here. 

II. vii. 187. Warp. To twist out of shape, hence, to 
change. This may refer (1) to the change of the water to 
ice, or (2) to the ruffling of the surface in freezing. 

II. vii. 189. As friend remembered not. This has been taken 
in two ways : Thy sting is not so sharp (1) as that which 
a friend feels who is not remembered; (2) as that which a 
friend inflicts who does not remember,— the past participle 
being active in sense. Cf. III. v. 131, where "Now I am 
remembered" = Now I recollect. 

II. vii. 193. Effigies. Likeness. The accent is on the 



NOTES. 183 

second syllable. This is not the plural of "effigy," but the 
Latin word unchanged. 

II. vii. 196. For metre, cf. Introduction, p. 39, 5. 

II. vii. 198. Thou. The pronoun used to an inferior. 
Contrast "you" in the lines addressed to Orlando. 

ACT III. 

III. i. This scene brings to a point the preliminary 
action at the court, and prepares matters so that Oliver's 
appearance in the forest in IV. iii. is plausible. 

III. i. 2. Better. Greater. 

III. i. 3. Argument. Subject. Cf. the use for the subject 
or contents of a book, as, e.g., the "argximent" prefixed to 
each book of Paradise Lost, and the use in I. ii. 299, for 
"grounds." 

III. i. 4. Thou present. The nominative absolute con- 
struction. 

III. i. 6. With candle. The allusion is probably to the 
parable of the woman who lost the pieces of silver, in 
Luke xv. 8. 

Quit. Acquit. Thee. Cf. Introduction, p. 41, 

Of such a nature. Whose special business it is. 
Extent. Valuation, usually with a view to tax- 
It was also used of a writ to seize the lands, etc., 
belonging to a debtor to the Crown, in order to compel 
payment. But here there is no question of debt, so the 
phrase, make an extent, is probably used vaguely for 
"seize." 

III. i. 18. Expediently. Expeditiously, quickly. 

III. ii. In this, the great central scene of the play, the 
complications reach their climax, and the unravelling 
begins. 

III. ii. 2. Thrice-crowned. The same goddess was known 
as Proserpina in the underworld, Cynthia (the moon) in 
the heavens, and Diana on earth. 

III. ii. 3. Pale sphere. The adjective seems to imply that 
sphere is used for the moon itself, and not for the sphere 
which carries it round, as described in II. vii. 6, note. 



III. i 


.11. 


3, (b). 




III. i. 


16. 


III. i. 


17. 


ation. 


It a 



184 NOTES. 

III. ii. 4. Thy huntress' '. Rosalind's. Full. Whole. 

III. ii. 6. Character. Write. This carving- on trees is a 
convention in pastoral poetry, at least as old as Vergil. 

III. ii. 10. Unexpressive. Inexpressible. She. Shakspere 
frequently uses she as a noun for "woman." 

III. ii. 13. In respect of. In comparison with. 

III. ii. 15. Naught. Worthless. Cf . I. ii. 71. 

III. ii. 33. Complain of. Complain of the want of. 

III. ii. 47. Parlous. Perilous. "The spelling, represents 
the [Elizabethan] pronunciation." (Clar.) 

III. ii. 53-54. But you kiss. Without kissing. 

III. ii. 56. Instance. Proof. Cf. II. vii. 156, note. 

III. ii. 57. Still. Constantly. 

III. ii. 58. Fells. Fleeces. 

III. ii. 59. Your. The indefinite use. Cf. V. iv. 64. 

III. ii. 65. More sounder. Cf . Introduction, p. 41, 2. 

III. ii. 67. Surgery. Doctoring. 

III. ii. 69. Civet. A perfume, something like musk, taken 
from the civet cat. 

III. ii. 72. Perpend. Reflect. The word is pedantic, and 
is used in Shakspere only by comic characters. 

III. ii. 78. Incision. This word is generally used in 
Shakspere of blood-letting, at that time a cure for almost 
any ailment. 

III. ii. 79. Raw. Ignorant, unsophisticated. Cf . Richard 
II., II. iii. 42, "Tender, raw, and young." 

III. ii. 83. Content with my harm. Patient under mis- 
fortune. 

III. ii. 87. Ind. In Elizabethan verse this word usually 
rhymes with "mind." 

III. ii. 91. Lined. Drawn. 

III. ii. 94. Fair. Beauty. For this substantive use, cf. 
Midsummer Night's Dream, I. i. 182, "Demetrius loves 
your fair." 

III. ii. 95. Tou. See Introduction, p. 42, 3, (c). 

III. ii. 97-98. The right butter-women's rank. The general 
sense seems to be that it jogs along like butter-women 
going to market. If "rank" is the correct reading, it must 
be used in the sense of "row," "file." But Clar. suggests 
very plausibly that we ought to read "rack" = a gait 



NOTES. 185 

"between a trot and an amble. Right = true, regular. Cf. 
III. ii. 287, "right painted cloth." 

III. ii. 105. Winter. Fi and F2 read "wintred." 

III. ii. 113. False gallop. The phrase is used of a horse 
when in galloping he lifts the left foot first. (Var.) 

III. ii. 118. Graff. The earlier (and more correct) form 
of "graft." 

III. ii. 119. Medlar. A fruit, something like an apple, 
which is eaten when it has grown soft (but not rotten). It 
is chosen by Rosalind, of course, for the sake of the pun 
with "meddler." 

III. ii. 128. This a desert. The Folios read "this desert." 
Other editions emend to "this desert silent." 

III. ii. 131. Civil. The meanings suggested for civil in this 
passage are: (1) belonging to civilization (as opposed to 
the solitude of the desert); (2) decent, polite; (3) grave, 
solemn. Of these the last best suits the lines that follow. 

III. ii. 133. His. Its. Cf. II. vii. 163, note. Erring. Wan- 
dering (without moral significance). 

III. ii. 135. Buckles in. Encloses. 

III. ii. 139. Sentence end. Cf. Introduction, p. 41, 1. 

III. ii. 142. Quintessence. The medieval philosophers 
regarded the world as composed of four elements — fire, 
air, earth, and water— and a "fifth essence," which was to 
the world what the soul was to the body. 

III. ii. 143. In little. In miniature. 

III. ii. 144-155. With the whole passage, cf. Tempest, III. 
i. 42-8; 

For several virtues 
Have I liked several women; . . . 
. . . but you, O you, 
So perfect and so peerless, are created 
Of every creature's best! 

III. ii. 146. Wide-enlarged. "Spread through the world," 
(Schmidt). But it is equally probable that the meaning is 
"at their fullest." 

III. ii. 147. Presently. Immediately. 

III. ii. 150. Atalanta's better part. Atalanta was noted for 
her swiftness and beauty. She challenged her suitors to a 
foot-race ; if anyone outstripped her, he was to win her ; if 



186 NOTES. 

she outstripped him, he was to die. It seems likely that 
her tetter part, then, was her athletic form, as opposed to 
her cruelty, implied in the harsh condition. 

III. ii. 151. Lucretia. A noble Roman lady "who was dis- 
honored by Sextus Tarquinius, and killed herself. Shak- 
spere tells the story in his Rape of Lucrece. 

III. ii. 153. Synod. Council. 

III. ii. 155. Touches. Qualities. Cf . V. iv. 27. 

III. ii. 157. And I to live. Cf . Abbott, § 416, for other 
instances where the second of two infinitives following- an 
auxiliary has 'to" where we should omit it and perhaps 
repeat the auxiliary. 

III. ii. 158. Pulpiter. n Preacher. The Folios read "Ju- 
piter," but this change suits the context so well that it 
has been generally adopted. 

III. ii. 166. Scrip. Pouch. 

III. ii. 174. Without. Outside of. 

III. ii. 179. Nine days. This was the proverbial length of 
time for a wonder to possess the popular mind. 

III. ii. 181. Palm tree. The tropical characteristics of the 
Forest of Arden are taken from Lodge's novel. 

III. ii. 182. Berhymed, etc. Var. quotes many references 
to this supposed method of killing rats. Pythagoras. To 
him was attributed the doctrine of the transmigration of 
souls. 

III. ii. 190-92. The reference is to the proverb, "Friends 
may meet, but mountains never greet." 

III. ii. 199. Out of all hooping. Beyond what can be 
expressed by exclamations. The modern spelling is 
"whooping." 

III. ii. 200. Good my complexion! My good complexion! 
Cf. I. ii. 1, note. The exclamation is evidently occasioned 
by her blushes. 

III. ii. 202-204. One inch . . . discovery. The least additional 
delay suggests so many questions, that the answering of 
them will be as great a matter as exploring the Pacific. 

III. ii. 211. Of God's making? "Or his tailor's?" (Clar.) 

III. ii. 216. Stay. Wait for. 

III. ii. 222-23. Speak sad brow, etc. Speak with a serious 
face and as a true maid. For construction cf. III. ii. 287-88. 



NOTES. 187 

"I answer you right painted cloth," and Introduction, p. 43, 
6, (b.) 

III. ii. 230. Wherein. In what costume. 

III. ii. 235. Gargantua. A giant with an enormous appe- 
tite, about whom "Rabelais wrote a romance. 

III. ii. 241. Freshly. Cf . Introduction, p. 43, 5, (b) . 

III. ii. 243. Atomies. Atoms. Used especially of the motes 
in the sunbeams. Resolve. Solve. 

III. ii. 246. Observance. Attention. 

III. ii. 248. Jove's tree. The oak was sacred to Jupiter. 

III. ii. 258. Holla. Stop, a call to horses. Cf. "curvets" 
in next line. 

III. ii. 259. Heart. For the pun on "hart," cf. Julius 
Caesar, III. i. 207-208. 

O world, thou wast the forest to this hart 
And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee. 

III. ii. 260. Burden. Under-song, accompaniment. 

III. ii. 261. Bringest. Puttest. 

III. ii. 271. God huy you. The usual Shaksperean equiva- 
lent of "good-bye." 

III. ii. 275. Moe. More. 

III. ii. 285. Goldsmith's wives, etc. According to Furness, 
it was customary for the wives of shopkeepers to sit before 
their doors and entice the young gallants to buy. Jaques 
implies that Orlando was in the habit of hanging about 
such places and learning by heart the mottoes engraved 
on the rings. 

III. ii. 287-88. Bight painted cloth. Rooms were hung with 
canvas painted with scriptural and other scenes, and orna- 
mented with scrolls on which were written pithy saying's. 
Cf. Lucrece, 244, 

Who fears a sentence, or an old man's saw, 
Shall by a painted cloth be kept in awe. 

Cf., for right, III. ii. 97-98, note; and, for construction, III. 
ii. 222-23, and Introduction, p. 43, 6, (b). 

III. ii. 291. Atalanta's heels. Cf . III. ii. 150, note. 

III. ii. 323, 324, 325. Who. Cf. Introduction, p. 43, 3, (a). 

III. ii. 328. Trots hard. It seems best to take hard in the 
sense of "uneasily," "uncomfortably," so that the week 



188 NOTES. 

seems as long as seven years. But Furness and others 
take hard = "fast," implying- that the bride goes through 
the emotions of seven years in so many days. 

III. ii. 354. Cony. Rabbit. 

Ill ii. 355. Kindled. Born. 

III. ii. 357. Purchase. Acquire. 

III. ii. 358-66. In this speech Rosalind makes a second 
attempt to bring the conversation round to love. Cf . line 
316, above. 

III. ii. 359. Religious. Belonging to a religious order, 
monastic. 

III. ii. 360. Inland. Cf. II. vii. 96, note. 

III. ii. 361. Courtship. Used in the double sense of "court- 
iership" and "love-making." 

III. ii. 364. Touched. Tainted. 

III. ii. 365. Taxed. Blamed. Cf. II. vii. 71. 

III. ii. 375. There is a man haunts. Cf. Introduction, p. 
42, 3, (d). 

III. ii. 380. Fancy-monger. Used contemptuously for 
"dealer in love fancies." 

III. ii. 382. Quotidian. A fever recurring daily. 

III. ii. 390-91. Blue eye. Blue round the eye. 

III. ii. 392. Unquestionable. Averse to conversation. 

III. ii. 394. For simply, etc. For, in simple truth, your 
possession in the way of a beard is as small as the revenue 
that a younger son gets. 

III. ii. 400-401. Point-device. (Fr., d point d&vis.) Scrupu- 
lously correct. 

III. ii. 419. Merely. Cf. note on line 442, below. 

III. ii. 420. A dark house and a u>hip. Formerly the usual 
treatment for lunacy. 

III. ii. 429. Moonish. Inconstant, variable. 

III. ii. 436-37. Entertain. Receive graciously. 

III. ii. 439. Humour. Whim. In the next line it means 
"disposition," "tendency." 

III. ii. 440. Living. Real. 

III. ii. 442. Merely. Entirely, the usual sense in Eliza- 
bethan English. Cf . line 419, above, which, however, may 
have the modern sense. 

III. ii. 444. Liver. The supposed seat of the passions. 



NOTES. 1S9 

III. iii. In this scene the comic underplot is introduced. 
There is nothing- corresponding to it in Lodge. 

III. iii. 3. Feature. Used of personal appearance in gen- 
eral. The word is not intelligible to Audrey. 

III. iii. 8. Capricious. A pun on Lat., caper, a goat. Goths 
is, of course, a pun on "goat." Augustus banished Ovid to 
Tomi, in the land of the Getae, on the Black Sea. 

III. iii. 10. Ill-inhaMted. Having an unsuitable habita- 
tion. 

III. iii. 11. Jove in a thatched house. Referring to the story 
in Ovid of Jupiter and Mercury who, in the form of men, 
were hospitably entertained by two aged peasants, Baucis 
and Philemon, in their thatched cottage. 

III. iii. 15-16. A great reckoning, etc. A heavy bill for poor 
accommodation. 

III. iii. 22-23. May he said, etc. Two constructions are here 
confused: (1) may be said to be feigne'd; (2) it may be said 
they do feign. To avoid this some editors insert "it" before 
may. 

III. iii. 27. Honest. Virtuous. Cf. I. ii. 43. 

III. iii. 30. Hard-favoured. Plain-looking. 

III. iii. 33. Material. Full of matter, or ideas. 

III. iii. 40. Foul. The word means "homely" as well as 
"dirty." Audrey uses it in the former sense. 

III. iii. 44. Sir. This title was applied not only to 
knights, but to those who had taken the degree of B. A. at 
a University, and so, loosely, to all clergymen, who on this 
account were known as "the pope's knights." 

III. iii. 51. Stagger. Hesitate. 

III. iii. 54, 57, 59. Horns. It was a standing Elizabethan 
joke that a man whose wife was unfaithful wore horns. 

III. iii. 61. Rascal. A deer out of condition. 

III. iii. 63. More worthier. Cf. Introduction, p. 41, 2. 

III. iii. 66. Defence. The art of self-defence. 

III. iii. 67. Horn. There seems to be here an additional 
reference to the horn as the symbol of plenty, in antithesis 
to want. The same double use occurs in 2 Henry IV., I. ii. 
52, "He hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness of 
his wife shines through it." 

III. iii. 70. Dispatch us. Settle our affair. 



190 NOTES. 

III. iii. 79. God 'ild you. God yield you, reward you. 

III. iii. 81. Be covered. Jaques had taken off his hat. 

III. iii. 83. Bow. The curved piece of wood partially 
encircling- the neck of an ox, and forming- part of the yoke. 

III. iii. 84. Falcon her. The falcon is properly the female 
hawk, the male being called a "tercel." 

III. iii. 95-96. I am not in the mind but I were tetter. I am 
not sure that it would not be better for me. The phrase "I 
were better" is formed on the analogy of "you were bet- 
ter," where "you" was originally a dative, ( = "it were 
better for you,") but came to be mistaken for a nominative. 
See Abbott, §§ 230, 352. 

III. iii. 102, 110. We must be< married . . . I will notto wed- 
ding with thee. The inconsistency here may perhaps be ex- 
plained (if Shakspere meant it to be explicable) by suppos- 
ing that before Touchstone sings this fragment of an old 
song, he goes apart to listen to the counsel offered by Jaques, 
and is persuaded to postpone the wedding. "The marriage 
is deferred in order that Touchstone and Audrey may form 
a fourth couple at the wedding in the|last scene." (War.) 

III. iv. The prose part of this scene has no counterpart in 
Lodge. 

III. iv. 7. Dissembling colour. Red hair was supposed to 
signify deceitfulness, and Judas was conventionally repre- 
sented as red-haired. 

III. iv. 13. Kisses. It is to be remembered that at the 
end of Scene ii. Orlando and Rosalind went off together, 
after the arrangement for the mock wooing, so that we did 
not see the end of the interview. 

III. iv. 15. Cast. Discarded. But Furness interprets it 
as "chaste." 

III. iv. 36. Question. Conversation. Cf. "unquestionable" 
in III. ii. 392. 

III. iv. 41. Brave. Fine. Cf. "bravery" = finery. 

III. iv. 44. Traverse. Across. To break a lance tnus was 
considered clumsy and disgraceful. 

III. iv. 45. Puisny. Literally, "born later" = "younger," 
and so inferior: The modern spelling is "puny"="small." 

III. iv. 51. Who. Cf. Introduction, p. 41, 3, (a). 

III. iv. 60. For metre, cf. Introduction, p. 39, 3. 



NOTES. 191 

III. v. This scene introduces the pastoral underplot. 

III. v. 3. For metre, cf . Introduction, p. 39, 5. 

III. v. 5. Falls. Lets fall. For intransitive verbs used 
transitively, cf . Abbott, § 291. 

III. v. 7. The order is inverted. "He that lives by bloody- 
drops, and dies," i.e., "until he dies," "all his life." 

III. v. 13. Atomies. Cf . III. ii. 243, note. 

III. v. 23. Cicatrice. Scar. Capable irnpressure. Percep- 
tible impression. 

III. v. 26. Nor ... no. Cf. Introduction, p. 42, 5, (a;. 

III. v. 29. Fancy. Love. Cf . II. iv. 31. 

III. v. 39. Than that you may go to bed without its being 
worth while to have light to gaze on it. 

III. v. 42. For metre c,f. Introduction, p. 39, 5. 

III. v. 43. Sale-work. "Ready-made goods. " (Clar.) 'Od'e. 
A corruption of "God's." Cf. IV. iii. 18, note. 

III. v. 47. Bugle. A glass bead. 

III. v. 48. Entame. Make tame. 

III. v. 49. For metre, cf . Introduction, p. 39, 5. 

III. v. 51. Properer. Handsomer. 

III. v. 53-54. Makes . . . flatters. Cf. Introduction, p. 42, 
4, (a). 

III. v. 55. Out of you. As reflected by your admiration. 

III. v. 61. Cry the man mercy. Ask the man's pardon. 

III. v. 62. An ugly woman is most ugly when she is ill- 
natured besides. For foul, cf. III. iii. 40, note. 

III. v. 74. For metre, cf . Introduction, p. 39, 5. 

III. v. 79. Abused. Deceived. 

III. v. 81. Dead shepherd. Christopher Marlowe (1564- 
1593), the greatest of Shakspere's predecessors in the 
English drama. The next line is from his poem of "Hero 
and Leander." Cf . Introduction, p. 29. It was a convention 
in pastorals for poets to speak of one another as shepherds. 
Cf., e.g., Milton's "Lycidas." Saw. Saying. Cf. II. vii. 
156. 

III. v. 90. Neighbourly. "In accordance with my duty as 
a neighbour," referring to the Scripture, "Thou shalt love 
thy neighbour as thyself." 

III. v. 93. It. The time. 

III. v. 100. Poverty of grace. Lack of favors. 



192 NOTES. 

III. v. 108. Carlot. Diminutive of carle = churl = peas- 
ant. 

III. v. 110. 'T. Cf. I. i. 154, note. Peevish. Childish, 
wayward. 

III. v. 118. For metre, cf . Introduction, p. 39, 5. 

III. v. 123. Constant. Uniform. Mingled damasK. Red and 
white. Cf. Sonnet cxxx., 5, "I have seen roses damasked, 
red and white" ; and Love's Labour's Lost, V. ii. 295-97: 

Fair ladies masked are roses in their bud ; 
Dismasked, their damask sweet commixture shown, 
Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown. 

III. v. 125. In parcels. Part by part. 

III. v. 131. Am remembered. Recollect. Cf. II. vii. 189, 
note. 

III. v. 133. Omittance, etc. A proverb. "Though I omitted 
to pay him back, yet wo are not quits . " A parallel has often 
been cited from Milton, Paradise Lost, X. 52-53, "But soon 
shall find Forbearance no acquittance ere day end." 

III. v. 136. Straight. Straightway. 

III. v. 138. Passing. Surpassingly. 



ACT IV. 

IV. i. In the matter of plot, this scene is merely a contin- 
uation of III. ii, where, the mock-wooing was proposed. It 
serves, however, to bring out still further the characters of 
Jaques and Rosalind, and shows a gradual increase in inti- 
macy between Rosalind and Orlando. 

IV. i. 7. Modem. Ordinary, commonplace. Cf. II. vii. 156. 
Censure. In Elizabethan English this word usually means 
merely "opinion," "judgment." But here there may be a 
shade of the modern adverse sense, as there is in 1. 206 below. 

IV. i. 15. Nice. Fastidious. 

IV. i. 17. Simples. Single elements ; used of the ingredi- 
ents of a drug. 

IV. i. 19-21. The text seems corrupt here. F x reads "by" 
in line 20, where our text, following the later Folios, reads 
"my." Jaques evidently means to say that the contempla- 
tion of his travels and frequent rumination on them produce 



NOTES 193 

his particular kind of melancholy, a most humorous (i.e., 
whimsical) sadness. 

IV. i. 33. God buy you. Cf. III. ii. 271, note. An. If. Cf. 

ne 43, below. 

IV. i. 40. Swam in a gondola. Been in Venice. The litera- 
ture of Shakspere's time abounds in satirical passages on 
■ he effect of Italian travel on Englishmen. 

IV. i. 51-52. Clap2oedhim on the shoulder. Editors are divided 
as to whether this means (1) encouraged, or (2) arrested. 

IV. i. 63. Horns. Cf. III. iii. 54, note. 

IV. i. 65. Armed in his fortune. Furnished with what it 
is his destiny to wear. Prevents. Anticipates. 

IV. i. 71. Leer. Originally "cheek," "face." 

IV. i. 77. You were better. Cf . III. iii. 95-96, note. 

IV. i. 78. Gravelled. Stuck in the sand, and so unable to 
proceed. 

IV. i. 80. Out. At a loss. 

IV. i. 89-90. I should think myself more virtuous than 
quick-witted if I could not put you out. 

IV. i. 99. By attorney. By proxy. 

IV. i. 101. There was not any man died. Cf . Introduction, 
p. 42, 3, (d). 

IV. i. 102. Troilus. Son of Priam and lover of Cressida, 
killed by Achilles in the Trojan War, after Cressida had 
proved faithless. He is the hero of Chaucer's Troilus, and 
Shakspere's Troilus and Cressida. 

IV. i. 106-113. Leander and Hero lived respectively at 
Abydos and Sestos, on opposite sides of the Hellespont. 
According to the Greek story, retold in English in Shak- 
spere's time by Marlowe and Chapman, Leander was drowned 
swimming across to Hero. 

IV. i. 145. Commission. Authority. 

IV. i. 147. There's a girl goes, etc. She says she takes 
Orlando before the priest has asked her. For grammar, cf . 
Introduction, p. 42, 3, (d). 

IV. i. 160. Against. Before. 

IV. i. 163. Diana. It is not evident that Shakspere had 
any particular statue in mind here. 

IV. i. 165. Eyen. Laughing hyena. 

IV. i. 171. Make. Shut. 



194 NOTES 

IV. i. 172. Will out. Cf. Introduction, p. 42, 4, (c). 

IV. i. 177. Wit, whither wilt? The phrase was a common 
saying for "What are you after?" 

IV. i. 181. Her husband's occasion. Of her husband's 
causing. 

IV. i. 202. Pathetical. The word is used by Shakspere in 
the sense of "moving," "affecting to the feelings." But 
here it is usually interpreted as a misuse, in the sense of 
"shocking." 

IV. i. 206. Censure. Cf . line 7 above, note. 

IV. i. 207. Religion. Strict observance. 

IV. i. 211. Misused. Abused, libelled. 

IV. i. 220. The bay of Portugal. This name is "still used 
by sailors to denote that portion of the sea off the coast of 
Portugal, from Oporto to the headland of Cintra. The water 
there is excessively deep. " (Clar. ) 

IV. i. 224. Thought. Brooding. 

IV. i. 225. Spleen. Capricious passion. 

IV. i. 230. Shadow. A shady spot. 

IV. ii. From the point of view of action, this scene serves 
chiefly to represent the passage of the time of Orlando's 
absence. 

IV. ii. 13. Stage direction. The rest, etc. In Fi, this 
stage direction is printed as part of the text, and some 
editors have so retained it. 

IV. iii. The first part of this scene carries on the pastoral 
underplot. The second shows us Rosalind's power of acting 
her part when taxed to the uttermost, and opens the Oliver- 
Celia plot. In this last part, however, any suggestion of the 
love about to spring up between these two has to be derived 
from their supposed gestures and looks rather than their 
words. 

IV. iii. 5. Sleep. The audience is, of course, led to expect 
"hunt." 

IV. iii. 18. Phoenix. A fabulous bird supposed to be re- 
born from its own ashes every five hundred years. Only 
one existed at a time. 'Ods. Cf. III. v. 43, note. Furness 
plausibly suggests that the frequency of these oaths in 
Rosalind's mouth is to be interpreted as part of her 
attempt to assume a "swashing and a martial outside." 



NOTES 195 

IV. iii. 24. Turned into. Brought into. (Clar.) 

IV. iii. 35. Giant-rude. Cf. neighbour bottom, in line 81 
"below, and cf. Abbott, § 430, for similar compounds. 

IV. iii. 49. Vengeance. Harm. 

IV. iii. 51. Eyne. Eyes. This is the A. S. plural ending 
which still survives in "oxen." 

IV. iii. 54. Aspect. Probably the astrological term, de- 
noting the propitious or unpropitious appearance of a planet. 
Cf. Introduction, p. 40, 7. 

IV. iii. 60. Kind. Nature. 

IV. iii. 63. Deny. Refuse. 

IV. iii. 69. Instrument. Used punningly in the two senses 
of a tool and a musical instrument. 

IV. iii. 81. Neighbour bottom. Neighbouring dell. Cf. 
note on verse 35, above. 

IV. iii. 82. Bank of osiers. Row of willows. Cf. III. ii. 
98, note. 

IV. iii. 89. Favour. Appearance. Cf. V. iv. 27. Bestows. 
Conducts. 

IV. iii. 90. Bipe. Grown up. It has been proposed to 
emend ripe sister to "right forester," which, though change 
is not absolutely necessary, gives very good sense and cor- 
rects the defective metre. 

IV. iii. 96. Napkin. Handkerchief. 

IV. iii. 100. Handkercher. This represents the pronuncia- 
tion still surviving in some parts. 

IV. iii. 104. Chewing the food. This is most frequently 
quoted "chewing the cud"= revolving. But there is neither 
authority nor necessity for the change. 

IV. iii. 109 ff. This description of Oliver's appearance, 
added by Shakspere, suggests the length of his wanderings 
and so helps to prepare us for his change of heart. 

IV. iii. 112. Who. For "who" used where modern Eng- 
lish requires "which" cf. line 134, below, and Abbott, 
§264. 

IV. iii. 117. With udders all drawn dry. And so, by impli- 
cation, fierce with hunger. 

IV. iii. 125. Bender him. Describe him as. 

IV. iii. 128. To. As to. 

IV. iii. 134. Cf. line 112, note, above. 



196 NOTES. 

IV. iii. 134. Hurtling. Noise of conflict. Cf . Julius Cae- 
sar, II. ii. 22, "The noise of battle hurtled in the air." 
IV. iii. 137. Contrive. Plot. Cf . I. i. 157. 
IV. iii. 138. Do not shame. Am not ashamed. 
IV. iii. 141. For. As for. 
IV. iii. 143. Becountments. Narratives. 
IV. iii. 144. As. As, for instance. 
IV. iii. 153. Recovered. Restored. 
IV. iii. 174. A passion of earnest. A real emotion. 



ACT V. 

V. i. This farcical scene comes as a relief after the emo- 
tional intensity of the close of the last act, and serves as a 
transition to the joyousness of the reconciliations and 
recognitions of the denouement. 

V. i. 13. We shall he flouting. "We must have our joke." 
(Clar.) 

V. i. 14. Hold. Restrain ourselves. 

V. i. 16. God ye. God give you. 

V. i. 35-39. The heathen . . . open. "What he says of the 
*heathen philosopher' is occasion'd by seeing his hearer 
stand gaping (as well he might), sometimes looking- at him, 
sometimes the maid, who, says he, is not a grape for your 
lips." (Capell, quoted in Var.) 

V. i. 47. Ipse. Lat., "he himself." 

V. i. 60. Bastinado. A cudgelling. Bandy. Contend. 

V. i. 66. Seeks. For grammar, cf . Introduction, p. 42, 4, 
(a) . But it may be merely a misprint. 

V. ii. This scene is a business-like preparation for the 
final disentanglement. Each of the complications is brought 
to a point where a single touch will put all to rights. 

V. ii. 1. Is't possible, etc. The sudden conversion of Oliver 
with the equally sudden consenting of Celia, is considered by 
many critics the one serious blot on the play. 

V. ii. 5. Persever. This is Shakspere's usual spelling. The 
accent is on the second syllable. Cf . Introduction, p. 40, 7. 

V. ii. 14. Estate. Settle. He ignores the fact that Duke 
Frederick had confiscated all his possessions. 

V. ii. 31. Handkercher. Cf. IV. iii. 100, note. 



NOTES. 197 

V. ii. 32. Greater wonders. His falling in love with Celia. 

V. ii. 33. Where you are. What you mean. In this speech 
Shakspere attempts to disarm criticism of the sudden woo- 
ing of Oliver and Celia by anticipating the objections. 

V. ii. 35. Thrasonical. Boastful. From Thraso, the brag- 
gart soldier in Terence. 

V. ii. 36. "I came,' 1 ' 1 etc. Veni, vidi, vici; the dispatch said 
to have been sent to the Senate by Caesar after his defeat of 
Pharnaces, king of Pontus in Asia Minor, b.c. 47. 

V. ii. 42. Degrees. In the literal sense of "steps." 

V. ii. 44. Incontinent. Immediately. 

V. ii. 45. Wrath. Ardor. 

V. ii. 46. Clubs. These were the weapons ordinarily used, 
especially by the London apprentices, to part combatants. 

V. ii. 61. Conceit. Intelligence. 

V. ii. 63. Insomuch. Because. 

V. ii. 66. To grace me. To advance myself. 

V. ii. 69. Conversed. Associated. 

V. ii. 70. Damnable. Sorcery was considered diabolical 
and was punished with death. Rosalind's magician was a 
harmless one. 

V. ii. 72. Gesture. The usual interpretation is "bearing," 
"behavior," though Shakspere does not seem to use it else- 
where in so general a sense. For it, cf . I. iii. 123. 

V. ii. 76. Inconvenient. Disagreeable. 

V. ii. 77. Human. Not in any ghostly form, such as you 
might expect from magic. 

V. ii. 80-81. Tender. Cherish. Cf . note on damnable in line 
70, above. 

V. ii. 85. Comes. Cf. Introduction, p. 42, 4, (a). 

V. ii. 106. Observance. Respect. It seems likely that either 
this word or the observance in verse 108 is a mistake. "Obe- 
dience," "obeisance," "endurance," "perseverance," are 
some of the conjectural emendations. 

V. iii. The object of this scene is primarily to afford an 
interval before the final scene where all the complications 
are solved. 

V. iii. 4. Dishonest. Immodest. Cf. "honest," in I. ii. 43. 

V. iii. 5. Woman of the world. Married woman. 

V. iii. 11. Clap inWt roundly. Begin at once. 



198 NOTES 

V. iii. 13. The only. Only the. For the inversion cf. I. 
ii. 209. 

V. iii. 14. A. For this use of the article for the numeral, 
cf. Othello, II. iii. 212, "at a birth" ; All's Well, I. iii. 244, "of 
a mind," etc., and the current phrases "at a sitting," "in a 
word," etc. 

V. iii. 30-33. In the Folio this last stanza is printed second. 
Modern editors have followed the better arrangement found 
in a version of the song in a MS. in the Advocates' Library 
in Edinburgh. 

V. iii. 35. Matter. Sense. 

V. iii. 40. God buy you. Cf . III. ii. 271, note. 

V. iv. The effort in this final scene is to give the greatest 
possible effect by untying as many knots as possible at once, 
and so to intensify the happy ending of conventional comedy. 
The conversion of Duke Frederick is Shakspere's own, and, 
like the conversion of Oliver, has been adversely criticized. 

V. iv. 4. The hope is uncertain ; the fear is uncertain. 

V. iv. 5. Compact. For accent, cf. Introduction, p. 40, 7. 

V. iv. 27. Lively touches. Life-like characteristics. Cf. 
III. ii. 155. Favour. Appearance. Cf. IV. iii. 89. 

V. iv. 32. Desperate. Dangerous, because of the laws 
against magicians. Cf . V. ii. 70, note. 

V. iv. 35. Toward. At hand. 

V. iv. 40. Good my lord. Cf . I. ii. 1, note. 

V. iv. 45. Purgation. Proof. Measure. A stately dance. 

V. iv. 48. Undone. Ruined by not paying his bills. 

V. iv. 49. Like. Was likely. 

V. iv. 50. Ta'en up. Made up. Cf . line 107, below. 

V. iv. 56. 'Ild. Yield, reward. Cf . III. iii. 79. You of the 
like. The same to you. 

V. iv. 58. Copulatives. People wishing to be married. 

V. iv. 60. Ill-favoured. Cf . V. iv. 27, note. 

V. iv. 64. Your. Cf . III. ii. 59, note. 

V. iv. 65. Sententious. Given to pithy sayings. 

V. iv. 67. Fool's bolt. Referring to the proverb, "A fool's 
bolt is soon shot. " A oolt is a blunt-pointed arrow. 

V. iv. 68. Dulcet diseases. This nonsensical phrase is only 
an instance of Touchstone's love of using fine words, irre- 
spective of meaning. 



NOTES. 19$ 

V. iv. 72. Seeming. In seemly fashion. 

V. iv. 73. Dislike. Express dislike of. 

V. iv. 81. Disabled. Said he thought little of. 

V. iv. 97. Quarrel in print, by the book. The whole passage 
has satirical reference to the books on fencing then fashion- 
able, which discussed such questions as "Of Honor and 
Honorable Quarrels," "Of the Manner and Diversity of 
Lies." For titles and contents of such volumes, cf. Var., 
pp. 274-76. 

V. iv. 107. Take up. Cf. note on line 50, above. 

V. iv. 115. Stalking-horse. A real or artificial horse, under 
cover of which hunters used to approach their game without 
being seen. 

V. iv. 116. Presentation. Show, cover. 

V. iv. 118. Hymen. The god of marriage. He was a fre- 
quent figure in masques and pageants of this nature, both in 
the marriage scenes of plays at this period and at actual 
weddings. Cf . the masque of Juno in The Tempest, IV. i. 

V. iv. 118. Stage direction. Still. Soft. 

V. iv. 120. Atone. Are set at one, reconciled. 

V. iv. 124-25. Her hand . . . his bosom. The Pi and F 2 
read "his hand," and all the Polios, "his bosom." If the 
readings in the text are to be taken, we must understand 
the antecedent of whose to be her in line 124. 

V. iv. 140. Holds true contents. Is true. 

V. iv. 158. Even daughter, etc. I call you daughter, since 
you are no less welcome than if you were my daughter. 

V. iv. 160. Fancy. Cf. II. iv. 31, note, and III. v. 29. 

V. iv. 166. Addressed a mighty power. Prepared a great 
force. 

V. iv. 170. Religious. Cf . III. ii. 359, note. 

V. iv. 171. Question. Conversation. Cf. III. iv. 36, note. 

V. iv. 177. Offer'st fairly. Makest a fair offering or wed- 
ding gift. 

V. iv. 180. Do those ends. Complete those matters. 

V. Iv. 182. Every. For use as pronoun, cf . Abbott, § 12. 

V. iv. 183. Shrewd. Hard. 

V. iv. 185. States. Ranks. 

V. iv. 192. Pompous. Full of pomp and ceremony. 

V. iv. 194. Convertites. Converts. 



200 NOTES. 

V. iv. 197. Deserves. For grammar, see Introduction, p. 
42,4, (a). 

V. iv. Observe how in this parting scene Jaques again 
shows his characteristic quality to be curiosity rather than 
sympathy. 

Epilogue. This is spoken in his own person by the boy 
who acted the part of Rosalind. 

4. Good wine needs no hush. A proverb meaning that good 
wares need no advertisement. A bush or garland of ivy, the 
plant sacred to Bacchus, was frequently hung as a sign 
before taverns. H. C. Hart (quoted by Var., p. 206) cites 
Gerard Leigh (1591) to show that the custom and the prov- 
erb had a further significance, since vessels made of ivy- 
wood were used to test the purity of wine. 

9. Insinuate. Ingratiate myself. Cf. Venus and Adonis, 
1012, "With Death she humbly doth insinuate." 

11. Furnished. Dressed, equipped. 

22. Liked. Pleased. 

23. Defied. Despised. 



WORD INDEX. 



A, V. iii. 14. 

a many, IV. ii. 199. 

abused, III. v. 79. 

addressed, V. iv. 1(56. 

against, IV. i. 160. 

Aliena, I. iii. 129. 

all points, I. iii. 117. 

allottery, I. i. 80. 

amaza, I. ii. 119. 

an, II. vii. 100: IV. i. 33. 

anatomize, I. i. 170. 

anatomized, II. vii. 56. 

argument, I. ii. 299; III. i. 3. 

armed in his fortune, IV. i. 65. 

as, II. i. 6; IV. iii. 144. 

aspect, IV. iii. 54. 

Atalanta, III. ii. 150, 291. 

atomies, III. ii. 243; III. v. 13 

atone, V. iv. 120. 

attorney, IV. i. 99. 

Ballad, II. vii. 148. 

bandy, V. i. 60. 

Barbary, IV. i. 159. 

bars me, I. i. 22. 

bastinado, V. i. 60. 

batlet, II. iv. 50. 

Bay of Portugal, IV. i. 220. 

be, II. vii. 1. 

be naught, I. i. 40-41. 

beggarly, II. v. 29. 

bequeathed, I. i. 2. 

berhymed, III. ii. 182. 

best (thou wert), I. i. 160. 

bestows, IV. iii. 89. 

better, III. i. 2. 

bills, I. ii. 134. 

blue eye, III. ii. 390-91. 

bob, II. vii. 55. 

bolt, V. iv. 67. 



bonny, II. iii. 8. 

bounds of feed, II. iv. 85. 

bow, III. iii. 83. 

brave, III. iv. 41. 

bravery, II. vii. 80. 

breathed, I. ii. 237. 

bringest, III. ii. 261. 

broke, II. iv. 40. 

broken music, I. ii. 154. 

brother, II. ii. 17. 

brutish sting, II. vii. 66. 

buckles in, III. ii. 135. 

bugle, III. v. 47. 

burden, III. ii. 260. 

burghers, II. i. 23. 

bush, Epilogue, 4. 

but I, I. ii. 18. 

but you kiss, III. ii. 53-54. 

butter-women's rank, III. ii. 97. 

Calling, I. ii. 253. 
candle, III. i. 6. 
capable, III. v. 23, 
capon, II. vii. 154. 
capricious, III. iii. 8. 
carlot, III. v. 108. 
cast, III. iv. 15. 
Celia, I. ii. 92. 
censure, IV. i. 7, 206. 
change, I. iii. 103, 
character, III. ii. 6. 
charged, I. i. 4. 
chase, I. iii. 33. 

chewing the food, IV. iii. 104. 
choke, II. iii. 61. 
chopt, II.iv.51. 
churlish, II. iv. 82. 
cicatrice, III. v. 23. 
city-woman, II. vii. 75. 
civet, III. ii. 69. 
201 



202 



WORD INDEX. 



civil, III. ii. 131. 

civility, II. vii. 96. 

clap, V. iii. 11. 

clapped him o' the shoulder, IV. 

i. 51-52. 
clown, II. iv. 68. 
clubs, V.ii.46. 
coat, I. iii. 17. 
colour, I. ii. 111. 
comes, I. ii. 128; V. ii. 85. 
comfortable, II. vi. 10. 
commission, IV. i. 145. 
compact, V. iv. 5. 
compact of jars, II. vii. 5. 
complain of, III. ii. 33. 
complexion, III. ii. 200. 
conceit, II. vi. 8; V. ii. 61. 
condition, I. ii. 284. 
condition of blood, I. i. 50. 
consent, II. ii. 3. 
constant, III. v. 123. 
content, II. iii. 68 : III. ii. 83 
contents, V. iv. 140. 
contrive, IV. iii. 137. 
contriver I. i. 157. 
conversed, V. ii. 69. 
convertites, V. iv. 194. 
cony, III. ii. 354. 
cope, II. i. 67. 
copulatives, V. iv. 58. 
cost of princes, II. vii. 76. 
cote, II. iv. 85. 
could, I. ii. 267. 

countenance, I. i. 20; II. vii. 108. 
counter, II. vii. 63. 
courtesy of nations, I. i. 51. 
courtship, III. ii. 361. 
cousin, I. iii. 43. 
cover, II. v. 31. 
covered, III. iii. 81. 
cross, II.lv. 12. 
cry . . . mercy, III. v. 61 
curtle-axe, I. iii. 118. 

Damnable, V. ii. 70. 
dark house, III. ii. 420. 
dead shepherd, III. v. 81. 



dearly, I. iii. 35. 
defence, III. iii. 66. 
defied, Epilogue, 23. 
degrees, V. ii. 42. 
deny, IV. iii. 63. 
desert, III. ii. 128. 
deserve, I. iii. 37. 
deserves, V. iv. 197. 
desperate, V. iv. 32 
despite, II. v. 48. 
Destinies decree, I. ii. 115. 
device, I. i. 183. 
dial, II. vii. 20. 
Diana, IV. i. 163. 
disabled, V.iv. 81. 
dishonest, V. iii. 4. 
dislike, V. iv. 73. 
dispatch, III. iii. 70. 
disputable, II. v. 35. 
dissembling colour, III, iv. 7. 
diverted, II. iii. 37. 
do not shame, IV. iii. 138. 
do those ends, V. iv. 180. 
dole, I. ii. 142. 
doublet, II. iv. 6. 
down, I. ii. 234. 
dry, II. vii. 39. 
ducdame, II. v. 55. 
dulcet diseases, V. iv. 68. 

Eat, II. vii. 88. 
effigies, II. vii. 193. 
Egypt, Iii v. 62. 
embossed, II. vii. 67. 
enforcement, II. vii. 118. 
entame, III. v. 48. 
entertain, III. ii. 436. 
envious, I. ii. 261. 
erring, III. ii. 133 
estate, V. ii. 14. 
even daughter, V. iv. 158 
every, V. iv. 182. 
exceeded, I. ii. 264. 
exile, II. i. 1. 
expediently, III. i. 18. 
extent, III. i. 17. 
eyne, IV. iii. 51. 



WORD INDEX. 



203 



Fair, III. ii. 94. 

falcon her, III. iii. 84. 

falls, III. v. 5. 

false gallop, III. il. 113. 

fancy, III. v. 29; V. iv. 160. 

fancy-monger, III. ii. 380. 

fantasy, II. iv. 31. 

favour, IV. iii. 89; V. iv. 27. 

feature, III. iii. 3. 

feed, II. iv. 85. 

feeder, II. iv, 101. 

fells, III. ii. 58. 

first-born, II, v. 62. 

fleeces, II. iv. 81. 

fleet, I. i. 128. 

flouting, V. i. 13. 

flux, II. i. 52. 

fond, II. iii. 7. 

fools, II. i. 22. 

fool's bolt, V. iv. 67. 

for, IV. iii. 141. 

Forest of Arden, I. i. 124-25. 

forked heads, II. i. 24. 

formal cut, II. vii. 155. 

fortune, II. vii. 19. 

forwardness, I. ii. 163. 

foul, III. iii. 40; III. v. 62. 

free, II. vii. 85. 

freshly, III. ii. 241 

friends, I. iii. 63. 

full, III. ii. 4. 

function, II. vii. 79. 

furnished, Epilogue, 11. 

Gallant, II. ii. 17. 

gamester, I. i. 179. 

Gargantua, III. ii. 235. 

gentle, I. i. 50. 

gesture, V. ii. 72. 

giant-rude, IV. iii. 35. 

girl goes, IV. i. 147. 

go about, I. i. 190. 

God buy you, III. ii. 271; IV. i. 

V. iii. 40. 
God 'ild you, III. iii. 79. 
God ye, V. i. 16. 
God's making, III. ii. 211. 
golden world, I. i 129. 



goldsmiths' wives, III. ii. 285. 

good my complexion, III. ii.200. 

good my lord, V. iv. 40. 

good wish, I. iii. 25. 

grace, I. i. 162; V. ii.66. 

gracious, I. ii. 205. 

graff, III. ii. 118. 

gravelled, IV. i. 78. 

great reckoning, III. iii. 15. 

greater wonders, V. ii. 32. 

grow upon, I. i. 94. 

Handkercher, IV. iii. 100; V. ii. 31. 

hard-favoured, III. iii. 30. 

harm, III. ii. 83. 

have with you, I. ii. 276. 

he, 1.1.181. 

headed evils, II. vii. 67. 

hearing of, II. vii. 4. 

heart, III. ii. 259. 

heathen philosopher, V. i. 35-39. 

her hand, V. iv. 124. 

Hero, IV. i. 106-113. 

him, I. i. 48. 

hinds, I. i. 22. 

his, II. vii. 163; III. ii. 133. 

his son, I. ii. 257. 

hold, V. i. 14. 

holds true contents, V. iv. 140. 

holla, III. ii. 256. 

honest, I. ii. 43; III. iii. 27. 

honesty, II. iv. 93. 

horn, III. iii. 67. 

horns, III. iii. 54, 57, 59; IV. I. 63. 

hose, II. iv. 7. 

housewife Fortune, I. ii. 35-36. 

human, V. ii. 77. 

humorous, I. ii. 286; II. iii. 8; IV 

i. 21. 
humour, III. ii, 439. 
huntress, III. ii. 4. 
hurtling, IV. iii. 134 
hyen, IV. i. 165. 
Hymen, V. iv. 118. 

"I came," etc., V. ii. 36. 
I to live, III. ii. 157. 
I were merrier, I. ii. 4. 



204 



WORD INDEX. 



I would not change it, II. i. 
'ild, III. iii. 79; V. iv. 56. 
ill-favoured, V. iv. 60. 
ill-favouredly , I. ii. 44. 
impressure, III. v. 23. 
in lieu of, II. iii. 65. 
in the mind, III. iii. 95. 
incision, III. ii. 78. 
incontinent, V. ii. 44. 
inconvenient, V. ii. 76. 
Ind, III. ii. 87. 
inland, III. ii. 360. 
inland bred, II. vii. 96. 
insinuate, Epilogue, 9. 
insomuch, V. ii. 63. 
instance, II. vii. 156; III. ii. 56. 
instrument, IV. iii. 69. 
intendment, I. i. 145. 
invectively, II. i. 58. 
invention, II. v. 47. 
ipse, V. i. 47. 

it, I. i. 154; I. iii. 123; III. v. 93 
ii. 72. 

Jaques, II. i. 26. 
jewel, II. i. 14. 
Jove, III. iii. 11. 
Jove's tree, III. ii. 248. 
Juno's swans, I. iii. 76. 

Kind, IV. iii. 60. 
kindle, I. i. 189. 
kindled, III. ii. 355 
kisses, III. iv. 9. 

Leander, IV. i. 106-113. 

learn, I. ii. 6. 

leer, IV i. 71. 

lieu, II. iii. 65. 

like, V. iv. 49. 

liked, Epilogue, 22. 

lined (filled), II. vii. 154. 

lined (drawn), III. ii. 91. 

little, III. ii. 143. 

lively touches, V. iv. 27. 

liver, III. ii. 444. 

lives and dies, III. v. 7. 



living, III. ii. 440. 
look you, II. v. 33. 
low content, II. iii. 68. 
Iiucretia, III. ii. 151. 

Make, I.i. 33; II. iii. 4; IV. i. 171. 

makes, III. v. 53. 

man haunts, III. ii. 375. 

manage, I. i. 14. 

marry, I. i. 87. 

material, III. iii. 33. 

matter, II. i. 68; V. iii. 35. 

may be said, III. iii. 22-23. 

measure, V. iv. 45. 

medlar, III. ii. 119. 

merely, III. ii. 419, 442. 

mettle, II. vii. 82. 

mines, I. i. 23. 

mingled damask, III. v. 123. 

misprised, I. i. 187; I. ii. 196. 

misused, IV. i. 211. 

modern, II. vii. 156; IV. i. 7. 

moe, III. ii. 275. 

moonish, III. ii. 429 

moral, II. vii. 29. 

more sounder, III. ii. 65. 

more worthier, III. iii. 63. 

mortal in folly, II. iv. 57-58. 

motley, II. vii. 13. 

mountains, III. ii. 191. 

Names, II. v. 21. 

napkin, IV. iii. 96. 

natural, I. ii. 54. 

naught, I. i. 41; I. ii. 71; III. ii. 15. 

neighbour bottom, IV. iii. 81. 

neighbourly, III. v. 90. 

nice, IV. i.15. 

nine days, III. ii. 179. 

no, I. ii. 48. 

no more do yours, II. iii. 12. 

no . . . neither, I. i. 95-6. 

noble device, I. i. 183. 

nor . . . not, II. iii. 50 

nor . . . no, III. v. 26. 

not . . . no, II. iv. 9. 

nor no . . . neither, I. ii. 30-31. 

not to, II. vii. 55. 



WORD INDEX. 



205 



note, II. v. 47. 
nurture, II. vii. 97. 

Observance, III. ii. 246; V. ii. 106. 

observation, II. vii. 41. 

occasion, IV. i. 181. 

odds in the man, I. ii. 172. 

'Ods, III. V. 43; IV. iii. 18. 

of . . . of, II. vii. 90. 

of such a nature, III. i. 16. 

offcr'st fairly, V. iv. 177. 

omittance, III. v. 133. 

on, I. i. 4. 

one inch . . . discovery, III. ii. 

202-204. 
only, I. ii. 209. 
out, IV. i. 80. 

out of all hooping, III. ii. 199. 
out of suits, I. ii. 266. 
out of you, III. v. 55. 

Fainted cloth, III. ii. 287-88. 

pale sphere, III. ii. 3. 

palm tree, III. ii. 181. 

pantaloon, II. vii. 158. 

parcels, III. v. 125. 

parlous, III. ii. 47. 

passing, III. v. 138. 

passion of earnest, IV. iii. 174. 

pathetical, IV. i. 202. 

patience, I. iii. 79. 

peascod, II. iv. 52. 

peevish, III. v. 110. 

penalty of Adam, II. i. 5. 

perceiving, I. ii. 57. 

perpend, III. ii. 72. 

persever, V. ii. 5. 

phoenix, IV. iii. 18. 

place, II. iii. 27. 

point-device, III. ii. 400-401. 

poke, II. vii. 20. 

pompous, V. iv. 192. 

poor a, I. i. 2. 

poverty of grace, III. V. 100. 

practise, I. i. 163. 

practices, II. iii. 26. 

presentation, V. iv. 116. 

presently, II. vi. 11; Ill.ii. 147. 



presents, I. ii. 133-35. 
prevents, IV. i. 65. 
priser, II. iii. 8. 
prodigal, I. i. 43. 
proper, I. ii. 132. 
properer, III. v. 51. 
purchase, III. ii. 357. 
purgation, I. iii. 54; V. iv. 45. 
puisny, III. iv. 45. 
pulpiter, III. ii. 158. 
Pythagoras, III. ii. 182. 

Quail,'II. ii. 20. 

quarrel in print, V. iv. 97. 

question, Ill.iv. 36; V. iv. 171. 

quintain, I. ii. 271. 

quintessence, III. ii. 142. 

quit, III. i. 11. 

quotidian, III. ii , 382. 

Rank, I. ii. 117. 

rank of osiers, IV. iii. S2. 

rankness, I. i. 95. 

rascal, III. iii. 61. 

raven, II. iii. 43. 

raw, III. ii. 79. 

recountments, IV. iii. 143. 

recovered, IV. iii. 153. 

religion, IV. i. 207. 

religious, III. ii. 359; V. iv. 170. 

remembered, II. vii. 189; III. v. 131. 

remorse, I. iii. 71. 

render, IV. iii. 125. 

resolve, III. ii. 243. 

respect of, III. ii. 13. 

reverence, I. i. 57. 

right, II. vii. 84; III. ii. 97. 

right painted cloth, III. ii. 287-88. 

righteously tempered, I. ii. 14-15. 

ripe, IV. iii. 90. 

roundly, V. iii. 11. 

roynish, II. ii. 8. 

Safest haste, I. iii. 42. 
sale-work, III. v. 43. 
sans, II. vii. 32, 166. 
savage, II. vi. 7. 
saw. III. v. 81. 



206 



WORD INDEX. 



saws, II. vii. 156. 

school, I. i. 6. 

scrip, III. ii. 166. 

searching of, II. iv. 44. 

seasons' difference, II. i. 6. 

seeks, V. i. 66. 

seeming, V. iv. 72. 

sentence end, III. ii. 139. 

sententious, V. iv. 65. 

sequestered, II. i. 33. 

service, II. iii. 61. 

seven ages, II. vii. 143. 

shadow, IV. i. 230. 

she, III. ii. 10. 

shear, II. iv. 81. 

show, I. iii. 82. 

shrewd, V. iv. 183. 

simples, IV. i. 17. 

simply, III. ii. 394. 

Sir, III. iii. 44. 

sleep, IV. iii. 5. 

smother, I. ii. 307. 

so, 1.11.11. 

sorts, I. i. 183. 

South Sea, III. ii. 202-204. 

sparrow, II. iii. 44. 

sad brow, III. ii. 223. 

speed, I. ii. 229. 

spheres, II. vii. 6. 

spleen, IV. i. 225. 

spoke, I. i. 92. 

sport, I. ii. 111. 

squandering glances, II. vii. 57. 

stagger, III. iii. 51. 

stalking-horse, V. iv. 115. 

stand with, II. iv. 93. 

stanzo, II. v. 19. 

states, V. iv. 185. 

stay, III. ii. 216. 

sticks, I. ii. 262. 

still, I. ii. 246; I. iii. 74; III.ii.57: 

V. iv. 118. 
straight, III. v. 136. 
strange oaths, II. vii. 150. 
successfully, I. ii. 166. 
sudden, II. vii. 151. 
suddenly, I. ii. 303; II. ii. 19. 
sufferance, II. ii. 3. 



suit, II. vii. 44. 

suits, I. ii. 266. 

surgery, III. ii. 67. 

swam in a gondola, IV. i. 40. 

sweat, II. iii. 58. 

sweet my coz, I. ii. 1. 

synod, III. ii. 153. 

Ta'en up, V. iv. 50. 

take up, V. iv. 107. 

taller, I. ii. 292. 

tax, II. vii. 71. 

taxation, I. ii. 94. 

taxed, III. ii. 365. 

taxing, II. vii. 86. 

tender, V. ii. 80. 

than I, I. ii. 287. 

thatched house, III. iii. 11. 

the only, V. iii. 13. 

the rest, etc. , IV. ii. 13. 

thee, III. i. 11. 

thou, I. i. 61 ; II. vii. 198. 

thou and I am, I. iii. 98. 

thou present, III. i. 4. 

thou wert best, I. i. ]60. 

thought, IV. i. 224. 

thrasonical, V. ii. 35. 

thrice-crowned, III. ii. 2. 

thrifty hire, II. iii. 39. 

to, IV. iii. 128. 

touched, III. ii. 364. 

touches, III. ii. 155; V. iv. 27. 

toward, V. iv. 35. 

traverse, III. iv. 44. 

Troilus, IV. i. 102. 

trots hard, III. ii. 328. 

trowel, I. ii. 116. 

turn, II. v. 3. 

turned into, IV. iii. 24. 

Udders, IV. iii. 117. 
uncouth, II. vi. 6. 
underhand, I. i. 152. 
undone, V. iv. 48. 
unexpressive, III. ii. 10. 
unkind, II. vii. 175. 
unquestionable, III. ii. 392. 
unregarded age, II. iii. 42. 



WORD INDEX. 



207 



unto, I. ii. 258. 

up, II. i. 62. 

upon command, II. vii. 125. 

Vein, II. vii. 94. 
vengeance, IV. iii. 49. 
venomous, II. i. 13. 
villains, I. i. 65. 
voice, II. iv. 89. 

Warp, II. vii. 187. 
waste, II. iv. 97. 
ways, I. ii. 228; II. iii. 66. 
weak evils, II. vii. 132. 
wear, II. vii. 34. 
wearer's, II. vii. 73. 
wearing, II. iv. 38. 
weary, II. iv. 1. 
weeping tears, II. iv. 54. 
well said, II. vi. 15. 
were better, III. iii. 95-96. 
what, I. i. 130; II. iv.90. 
wheel, I. ii. 36. 
where you are, V. ii. 33. 



wherein, I. Ii. 200; III. ii. 230. 

wherein ... in, II. vii. 139. 

which, II. i. 8. 

which Charles, I. ii. 137. 

whiles, II. vii. 128. 

who, III. ii. 323, 324, 325; III. 

51; IV. iii. 112. 
wide-enlarged, III. ii. 146. 
will out, IV. i. 172. 
winter, III. ii. 105. 
wit . . . silenced, I. ii. 98. 
wit, whither, wilt, IV, i. 177. 
withal, I. i. 144; I.ii.29. 
without, III. ii. 174. 
woman of the world, V. iii. 5. 
world, I. ii. 304. 
wrath, V. ii. 45. 



You, III. ii. 95. 
you of the like, V. iv. 56. 
you were better, IV. i. 77. 
young in this, I. i. 59-60. 
your, III. ii. 59; V. iv. 64. 



iv. 



LoJl'29 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Feb. 2009 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 



